UC-NRLF 


unoi 

'ederie 


GLORIA    MUNDI 


GLORIA  MUNDI 


A   NOVEL 


BY 


HAROLD  FREDERIC 

Author  of  "The  Damnation  of  Theron  Ware,"  "In  The 
Valley,"  "The  Copperhead,    etc. 


HERBERT  S.  STONE  &  COMPANY 

CHICAGO   £r  NEW  YORK 

MDCCCXCIX 


COPYRIGHT  1898,  BY 
JOHN  BRISBEN  WALKER 
COPYRIGHT  1898,  BY 
HERBERT  S.  STONE  &  CO 


FOURTH   IMPRESSION 


TO     MY    FRIEND 

THE  HON.   ALTON  B.   PARKER 

CHIEF    JUDGE    OF    THE    COURT 
OF    APPEALS,     N.     Y. 


284342 


PART   I 


CHAPTER  I 

The  meeting  of  the  man  and  the  woman — 
it  is  to  this  that  every  story  in  the  world 
goes  back  for  its  beginning. 

At  noon  on  a  day  late  in  September  the 
express  train  from  Paris  rested,  panting  and 
impatient,  on  its  brief  halt  in  the  station  at 
Rouen.  The  platform  was  covered  with 
groups  of  passengers,  pushing  their  way  into 
or  out  of  the  throng  about  the  victualer's 
table.  Through  the  press  passed  waiters, 
bearing  above  their  heads  trays  with  cups  of 
tea  and  plates  of  food.  People  were  climbing 
the  high  steps  to  the  carriages,  or  beckoning 
to  others  from  the  open  windows  of  compart 
ments.  Four  minutes  of  the  allotted  five  had 
passed.  The  warning  cries  of  the  guards  had 
begun,  and  there  was  even  to  be  heard  the 
ominous  preliminary  tooting  of  a  horn. 

At  the  front  of  the  section  of  first-class 
carriages  a  young  woman  leaned  through  the 
broad  window-frame  of  a  coupe*,  and  held  a 
i 


GLORIA  MUNDI 

difficult  conversation  with  one  of  the  waiters. 
She  had  sandwiches  in  one  hand,  some  loose 
coin  in  the  other.  Her  task  was  to  get  at  the 
meaning  of  a  man  who  spoke  of  sous  while 
she  was  thinking  in  centimes,  and  she  smiled 
a  little  in  amused  vexation  with  herself  at 
the  embarrassment. 

"Deux  sandwich:  combien  si  vous  plait, 
monsieur?"  she  repeated,  with  an  appealing 
stress  of  courtesy.  More  slowly  she  con 
structed  a  second  sentence:  "Est  un  franc 
assez?"  She  proffered  the  silver  coin  to  help 
out  her  inquiry,  and  the  waiter,  nodding, 
put  up  his  hand  for  it. 

On  the  instant,  as  the  noise  of  slamming 
doors  and  the  chorus  of  "Au  coupe*,  s'il-v'- 
plait!"  grew  peremptory,  one  in  authority 
pushed  the  waiter  aside  and  pulled  open  the 
coupe  door  upon  which  she  had  been  leaning. 
"Permettez  moi,  madame!"  he  said  curtly. 

Close  at  his  back  was  a  young  man,  with 
wraps  upon  his  arm  and  a  traveling  bag  in 
his  hand,  who  was  flushed  and  breathing 
hard  with  the  excitement  of  hurry,  and  who 
drew  a  long  sigh  of  relief  as  he  put  his  foot 
on  the  bottom  step  of  the  coupe. 

The  young  woman  had  grasped  the  door 
and  was  striving  stoutly  to  drag  it  to  her. 
"Mais  non,  monsieur!"  she  shouted,  her 
voice  quivering  with  vehemence.  "Cette 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

compartement  est  tout  reservee — engaged! 
J'ai  donne  sank  franc  soisante,  en  Paris, 
pour  moi  seulement!  Je  proteste!  " 

Sharp  blasts  from  a  horn  at  the  rear  of  the 
train  broke  in  upon  her  earnest  if  uncertain 
remarks.  The  official  held  up  one  warning 
hand,  while  with  the  other  he  wrenched  the 
door  wide  open.  He  said  something  of 
which  the  girl  comprehended  only  its  arbi 
trary  harshness  of  spirit.  Brusquely  thrust 
ing  a  ticket  into  the  young  man's  hand,  he 
pushed  him  up  the  steps  into  the  compart 
ment,  and  closed  the  door  upon  him  with  a 
clang.  Arms  were  waving  outside ;  the  tin 
horn  screamed;  a  throb  of  reawakened 
energy  thrilled  backward  through  the  train. 

"I  assure  you — I  am  so  sorry,"  the  young 
man  began,  still  standing  by  the  door.  His 
voice  was  gentle  and  deprecatory.  His 
words  were  English,  but  the  tone  was  of 
some  other  language. 

"But  I  have  taken  the  whole  compart 
ment — I  paid  for  it  all!"  she  burst  out  at 
him,  her  voice  shaking  with  indignation. 
"It  is  an  outrage!" 

"I  am  afraid  you  are  mistaken,"  he 
started  to  speak  again;  "you  obtained  only 
one  seat — I  have  a  ticket  for  another.  If 
there  had  been  time,  I  beg  you  to  believe — " 

The  train  was  moving,  and  a  swift  plunge 
3 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

into  utter  darkness  abruptly  broke  off  his 
speech.  After  a  few  moments  it  became 
possible  to  discern  vague  outlines  in  the 
black  compartment.  The  girl  had  huddled 
herself  on  the  end  cushion  at  the  right.  The 
young  man  took  his  seat  in  the  corner  to  the 
left,  and  for  three  incredibly  protracted 
minutes  the  tunnel  reared  its  uncanny 
barrier  of  bogus  night  between  them.  The 
dim  suggestion  of  light  which  remained  to 
them  revealed  constrained  and  motionless 
figures  drawn  rigidly  away  from  each  other, 
and  pale  averted  countenances  staring  fixedly 
into  the  gloom. 

All  at  once  they  were  blinking  in  a  flood 
of  sunshine,  and  drawing  welcome  breaths 
of  the  new,  sweet  air  which  swept  through 
from  window  to  window.  The  young  man's 
gaze,  decorously  turned  to  his  left,  was  of  a 
sudden  struck  with  the  panorama  as  by  a 
blow.  He  uttered  a  little  cry  of  delight  to 
himself,  and  bent  forward  with  eagerness  to 
grasp  as  much  as  he  might  of  what  was 
offered.  The  broad,  hill-rimmed  basin  of 
the  Seine ;  the  gray  towers  and  shining  spires 
of  the  ancient  town;  the  blue  films  of  smoke 
drifting  through  the  autumn  haze ;  the  tall 
black  chimneys,  the  narrow,  high  poplars, 
the  splashes  of  vivid  color  with  which  the 
mighty  moving  picture  painted  itself— all 

4 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

held  him,  rapt  and  trembling,  with  his  face 
out  of  the  window. 

Summarily  the  darkness  descended  upon 
them  again.  He  drew  back,  settled  himself 
in  his  seat  and  recalled  the  circumstance  that 
he  was  not  alone.  It  occurred  to  him  to  pull 
up  the  window,  and  then  instinctively  he 
turned  to  see  if  she  had  taken  the  same  pre 
caution  on  her  side.  Thus  when  the  short 
second  tunnel  unexpectedly  ended,  he  found 
himself  regarding  his  companion  with  wide- 
eyed  and  surprised  intentness. 

There  were  two  vacant  seats  between 
them,  and  across  this  space  she  returned  his 
scrutiny  for  a  moment;  then  with  a  fine 
show  of  calm  she  looked  away,  out  through 
the  broad,  rounded  panes  which  constituted 
the  front  of  the  compartment. 

To  the  eye  of  the  young  man,  she  was 
above  all  things  English.  Her  garments, 
her  figure,  the  pose  of  her  head,  the  con 
sciously  competent  repose  of  her  profile,  the 
very  angle  at  which  the  correct  gray  hat, 
with  its  fawn-colored  ribbon,  crossed  the  line 
of  the  brow  above — these  spoke  loudly  to  him 
of  the  islander.  From  this  fact  alone  would 
be  inferred  a  towering  personal  pride,  and 
an  implacable  resentment  toward  those  who, 
no  matter  how  innocently  and  accidentally, 
offered  injury  to  that  pride.  He  knew  the 
5 


GLORIA  MUNDI 

English  well,  and  it  hardly  needed  this 
partial  view  of  her  face  to  tell  him  that  she 
was  very  angry. 

Another  young  man,   under  these  condi 
tions,  might  have  more  frankly  asked  himself 
whether  the  face  was  a  beautiful  one.     He 
was  conscious  that  the  query  had  taken  shape 
in  his  mind,  but  he  gave  it  no  attention.    ^  It 
was  the  character  of  the  face,  instead,  which 
had  powerfully  impressed  him.     He  recalled 
with   curious  minuteness  the  details  of   his 
first  glimpse  of  it— the  commanding  light  in 
the  gray  eyes,  the  tightened  curves  of  the 
lip,  the  mantling  red  on  the  high,  smooth 
cheek.     Was  it  a  pretty  face  ?     No— the  ques 
tion  would  not  propound  itself.     Prettiness 
had  nothing  to  do   with   the   matter.     The 
personality  which  looked  through  the  face- 
that  was  what  affected  him. 

The  compartment  seemed  filled  in  some 
subtle  way  with  the  effect  of  this  personality. 
He  looked  out  of  his  window  again.  A  beau 
tiful  deep  valley  lay  below  him  now,  with 
densely  wooded  hills  beyond.  The  delicate 
tints  of  the  waning  season  enriched  the 
tracery  of  foliage  close  at  hand;  still  the  tall 
chimneys,  mixed  with  poplars,  marked  the 
course  of  the  enslaved  river,  but  the  factories 
themselves  were  kindly  hidden  here  by  dark 
growths  of  thicket  in  the  shadowed  depths. 
6 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

It  was  surpassingly  beautiful,  but  its  con 
templation  left  him  restless.  He  moved 
about  on  his  seat,  partially  lowered  the 
window,  put  it  up  again  and  at  last  turned 
his  head. 

"I  am  afraid  that  all  the  charming  land 
scape  is  on  this  side,"  he  made  bold  to  say. 
"I  will  change  places  with  pleasure,  if — if 
you  would  be  so  kind." 

"No,  thank  you,"  was  her  spontaneous 
and  decisive  reply.  Upon  reflection  she 
added  in  a  more  deliberate  tone:  "I  should 
be  obliged  if  you  would  take  the  view  that 
conversation  is  not  necessary. ' ' 

Some  latent  strain  of  temerity  amazed  the 
young  man  by  rising  to  the  surface  of  his 
mind,  under  the  provocation  of  this  rebuff, 
and  shaping  his  purpose  for  him. 

"It  is  only  fair  to  myself,  first,  however," 
he  with  surprise  heard  himself  declaring, 
"that  I  should  finish  my  explanation.  You 
can  satisfy  yourself  readily  at  Dieppe  that 
your  ticket  is  for  only  one  seat.  It  is  very 
easy  to  make  errors  of  that  kind  when  one 
does  not — that  is  to  say,  is  not — well,  entirely 
familiar  with  the  language  of  the  country. 
As  to  my  own  part,  you  will  remember  that 
I  came  only  at  the  last  moment.  I  took  my 
coupe*  seat  a  half  hour  before,  because  I  also 
wished  to  be  alone,  and  then  I  went  out  to 
7 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

see  Jeanne  d'Arc's  tower  again,  and  I  was 
nearly  too  late.  If  there  had  been  time,  I 
would  have  found  a  seat  elsewhere — but 
you  yourself  saw — " 

"Really,  I  think  no  more  need  be  said," 
broke  in  his  companion.  She  looked  him 
frankly,  coldly  in  the  face  as  she  spoke,  and 
her  words  seemed  in  his  ears  to  have  metal 
lic  edges.  "It  is  plain  enough  that  there 
was  a  mistake.  As  you  have  suggested,  my 
French  is  very  faulty  indeed,  and  no  doubt 
the  misunderstanding  is  entirely  my  own. 
So,  since  it  is  unavoidable,  there  surely  need 
be  no  more  words  about  it. ' ' 

She  opened  a  book  at  this,  put  her  feet  out 
to  the  stool  in  front  and  ostentatiously  dis 
posed  herself  for  deep  abstraction  in  litera 
ture. 

The  young  man  in  turn  got  out  some 
pamphlets  and  papers  from  the  pockets  of 
his  great-coat,  and  pretended  to  divide  his 
attention  between  these  and  the  scenery  out 
side.  In  truth,  he  did  not  for  a  moment  get 
the  face  of  this  girl  out  of  his  thoughts. 
More  than  ever  now,  since  she  had  looked 
him  fully  in  the  eye,  it  was  not  a  face  to  be 
pictured  in  the  brain  as  other  faces  of  women 
had  been.  The  luminous  substance  of  the 
individuality  behind  the  face  shone  out  at 
him  from  the  pages  he  stared  at,  and  from  the 
8 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

passing  vistas  of  lowland  meadows,  streams 
and  mill-towns  that  met  his  gaze  through  the 
window. 

He  knew  so  little  of  women  that  his  mind 
was  quite  devoid  of  materials  for  any  com 
parative    analysis  of    the    effect    she    pro 
duced  upon  him.     He  evolved  for  himself, 
indeed,  the  conviction  that  really  this  was 
the  first  woman,  in  the  genuine  and  higher 
meaning  of  the  word,  that  he  had  ever  met. 
The  recognition  of  this  brought  with  it  an 
excitement  as  novel  to  him  as  the  fact  itself. 
Before  ever  he  had  seen  her,  clinging  to  the 
coupe*   door  with  her  gloved  hands  and  so 
bravely  doing  hopeless  and  tongue-tied  battle 
with  the  guard,  there  had  been  things  which 
had  made  this  the  greatest  day  of  his  life. 
He  was  in  truth  finishing  the  last  stage  of  a 
journey    into    the     unknown,    the    strange 
possibilities  of  which  had  for  a  week  kept  his 
nerves  on  the  rack.     The  curtain  of  only  one 
more  night  hung  now  between  him  and  the 
revealed  lineaments  of  destiny.     To  be  alone 
with  his  perturbed    thoughts,   on  this  cul 
minating  day  of  anxious  hopes  and  dreads, 
had  been  his  controlling  idea  at  Rouen..    It 
was  for  this  that  he  had  bought  the  coupe 
seat,   upon   the   rumor   of   the   station   that 
solitude  was  thus  to  be  commanded.     And 
now    how    extraordinary   was   the   chance! 
9 


GLORIA  MUNDI 

There  had  stepped  into  this  eventful  day,  as 
from  the  clouds,  a  stranger  whose  mysterious 
appeal  to  his  imagination  seemed  more 
remarkable  than  all  else  combined. 

He  worked  this  out,  painstakingly,  with 
little  sidelong  glances  from  time  to  time 
toward  where  she  sat  buried  in  her  book,  to 
check  the  progression  of  his  reasoning.  When 
he  reached  the  conclusion  that  she  was  really 
playing  this  predominant  part  in  the  drama 
of  the  day,  its  suggestion  of  hysterical  folly 
rather  frightened  him.  He  looked  with 
earnestness  out  of  the  window,  and  even  be 
gan  to  count  the  chimneys  of  the  landscape  as 
an  overture  to  returning  sanity.  Then  he 
looked  less  furtively  at  her  and  said  to  him 
self  with  labored  plausibility  that  she  was 
but  an  ordinary  traveling  Englishwoman, 
scarcely  to  be  differentiated  from  the  Cook's- 
tourist  type  that  he  knew  so  well ;  she  had 
not  even  a  governess'  knowledge  of  French, 
and  there  had  been  nothing  in  her  words  and 
tone  with  him  to  indicate  either  mental  dis 
tinction  or  kindliness  of  temper.  Why 
should  he  bestow  so  much  as  another  thought 
upon  her?  He  squared  his  slender  shoul 
ders,  and  turned  with  resolution  to  his  book. 

A  minute  later  the  impossibility   of  the 
situation  had   mastered   every   fiber  of  his 
brain,     He  put  down  the  volume,   feeling 
10 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

himself  to  be  a  fool  for  doing  so,  yet  suffer 
ing  himself  with  an  unheard-of  gladness. 

"If  I  anger  you,  I  shall  be  much  pained," 
he  said,  with  a  set  face  turned  not  quite 
toward  her,  and  a  voice  that  he  kept  from 
breaking  by  constant  effort,  "but  I  am  going 
to  England  for  the  first  time,  and  there  are 
some  things  that  I  am  very  anxious  to  ask 
about." 

She  seemed  to  reflect  a  little  before  she 
lifted  her  head.     Now  again  he  was  privi- 
ledged  to  look  squarely  into  her  face,  and  he 
added  swiftly  to  his  store  a  new  impression  of 
her.    The  ruling  characteristic  of  the  counte 
nance  was  a  certain  calm  and  serious  reasona 
bleness.  The  forehead  was  broad  and  comely ; 
the  glance  of  the  eyes  was  at  once  alert  and 
steady.     The  other  features  were  content  to 
support  this  controlling  upper  part  of  the 
face;  they  made  a  graceful  and  fitting  frame 
for   the   mind  which  revealed  itself  in  the 
eyes  and  brow— and  sought  to  do  no  more. 
Studying  her  afresh  in  this  moment  of  her 
silence,    he   recalled   the    face   of   a   young 
Piedmontese  bishop  who  had  come  once  to 
his    school.       It    had    the    same    episcopal 
serenity,  the  same  wistful  pride  in  youth's 
conquest  of  the  things  immortal,  the   same 
suggestion    of    intellectuality    in    its    clear 
pallor. 


GLORIA  MUNDI 

"I  should  dislike  to  seem  rude,"  she  said, 
slowly.  "What  is  it  that  you  want  to  ask?' ' 
What  was  it  indeed?  He  searched  con 
fusedly  about  in  his  mind  for  some  one 
question  entitled  to  precedence  among  the 
thousand  to  which  answers  would  come  in 
good  time.  He  found  nothing  better  than  a 
query  as  to  the  connection  between  New 
Haven  and  Brighton. 

4 ' In  this  little  book, ' '  he  explained,  "there 
is  a  time  for  New  Haven  and  for  London,  but 
I  cannot  find  a  mention  of  Brighton,  yet  I 
am  expected  there  this  evening,  or  perhaps, 
early  to-morrow  morning." 

"I  am  sure  I  cannot  tell  you,"  she 
answered.  "However,  the  places  are  not 
far  apart.  I  should  say  there  would  certainly 

be  trains." 

She  lifted  the  book  again  as  she  spoke,  and 
adjusted  her  shoulders  to  the  cushions.  He 
made  haste  to  prevent  the  interview  from 
lapsing. 

"I  have  never  seen  England,"  he  urged 
dolefully,  "and  yet  i  am  all  English  in  my 
blood — and  in  my  feelings,  too." 

A  nicker  of  ironical  perception  played  for 
an  instant  in  her  eye  and  at  the  corner  of  her 
lip.  "I  have  heard  that  a  certain  class  of 
Americans  adopt  that  pose,"  she  remarked. 
"I  dare  say  it  is  all  right." 


12 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

He  did  not  grasp  her  meaning  all  at  once, 
though  the  willingness  to  give  umbrage  con 
veyed  in  her  tone  was  clear  enough.  He 
looked  doubtfully  at  her,  before  he  spoke 
again.  "Oh,"  he  began,  with  hesitation— 
"yes,  I  see — you  thought  I  was  American. 
I  am'  not  in  the  least— I  am  all  English. 
And  it  affects  me  very  much— this  thought 
that  in  a  few  hours  now  I  am  to  see  the  real 
England.  I  am  so  excited  about  it,  in  fact, 
he  added  with  a  deprecatory  little  laugh, 
"that  I  couldn't  bear  it  not  to  talk." 

She  nodded  comprehendingly.  ' '  I  thought 
that  your  accent  must  be  American— since 
it  certainly  isn't  English." 

"Oh,  I  have  too  facile  an  ear,"  he 
answered  readily,  as  if  the  subject  were 
by  no  means  new  to  him.  "I  pick  up  every 
accent  that  I  hear.  I  have  been  much  with 
English  people,  but  even  more  with  Ameri 
cans  and  Australians.  I  always  talk  like 
the  last  family  I  have  been  in— until  I  enter 
another.  I  am  by  profession  a  private 
tutor— principally  in  languages— and  so  : 
know  my  failings  in  this  matter  very  well 

She  smiled  at  some  passing  retrospect. 
"You  must  have  had  an  especially  complete 
sense  of  my  shortcomings  as  a  linguist,  too. 
I  have  often  wondered  what  effect  my 
French  would  produce  upon  an  actual  pro- 


13 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

f essor,  but  I  should  never  have  had  the  cour 
age  to  experiment,  if  I  had  known. ' ' 

He  waved  his  hand — a  pale  hand  with 
veined,  thin,  nervous  fingers,  which  she 
looked  at  in  its  foreign  gesture.  "Too  much 
importance  is  attached  to  languages,"  he 
declared.  "It  is  the  cheapest  and  most 
trivial  of  acquirements,  if  it  stands  alone,  or 
if  it  is  not  put  to  high  uses.  Parents  have  so 
often  angered  me  over  this:  they  do  not 
care  what  is  in  their  children's  minds  and 
hearts,  but  only  for  the  polish  and  form  of 
what  is  on  their  tongues.  I  have  a  different 
feeling  about  education." 

She  nodded  agiun,  and  laid  the  book  aside. 
"You  are  coming  to  a  country  where  every 
thing  will  shock  you,  then,"  she  said.  "I 
would  rather  do  scullery  work,  or  break 
stones  by  the  roadside,  than  be  a  school 
teacher  in  England. ' ' 

"Oh,  it's  the  same  everywhere,"  he  urged. 
"I  would  not  think  that  the  English  were 
worse  than  the  others.  They  are  different, 
that  is  all.  Besides,  I  do  not  think  I  shall 
be  a  teacher  in  England.  Of  course,  I  speak 
in  the  dark ;  for  a  few  hours  yet  everything 
is  uncertain.  But  as  the  old  American  sen 
ator  at  Monte  Carlo  used  to  say,  'I  feel  it 
in  my  bones'  that  I  will  not  have  to  teach 
any  more, ' ' 

14 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

The  expression  of  her  face  seemed  some 
how  not  to  invite  autobiography  at  the 
moment.  "The  prospect  of  not  having  to 
work  any  more  for  one's  living,"  she  mused 
at  him— "how  curiously  fascinating  it  always 
is!  We  know  perfectly  well  that  it  is  good 
for  us  to  work,  and  that  we  should  be  woe 
fully  unhappy  if  we  did  not  work,  and  yet 
we  are  forever  charming  our  imagination 
with  a  vision  of  complete  idleness." 

"I  would  not  be   idle!"  the   young   man 
broke    forth,    enthusiastically.     He    leaned 
forward  in  his  seat,  and  spoke  with   eager 
hands   as   well  as  words  against  the  noise 
that  filled  the   swaying   carriage.     "I  have 
tfiat   same    feeling— the   longing   to   escape 
from  the  dull  and  foolish  tasks  I  have  to  do— 
but  I  never  say  to  myself  that  I  would  be 
idle.     There  are  such  a  host  of  things  to  do 
in  the  world  that  are  worth  doing!     But  the 
men  who  have  the  time  and  the  money,  who 
are  in  the  position  to  do  these  things— how 
is  it,  I  ask  myself,  that  they  never  think  of 
doing  them?     It  is  the  greatest  of  marvels  to 
me.      Then   sometimes    I   wonder,    if    the 
chance  and  the  power  came  to  me,  whether 
I  also  would  sit  down,   and  fold  my  hands, 
and  do  nothing.     It  is  hard  to  say;  who  can 
be  sure  what  is   in   him  till   he    has   been 
tested?    Yet  I  like  to  think  that  I  would 
15 


GLORIA  MUNDI 

prove  the  exception.  It  is  only  natural," 
he  concluded,  smilingly,  "that  one  should 
try  to  think  as  well  as  possible  of  one 
self." 

The  young  lady  surveyed  his  nervous, 
mobile  face  with  thoughtful  impassivity. 
"You  seem  to  think,  one  way  or  another,  a 
good  deal  about  yourself, ' '  she  remarked. 

He  bowed  to  her,  with  a  certain  exaggera 
tion  in  his  show  of  quite  sincere  humility 
which,  she  said  to  herself,  had  not  been 
learned  from  his  English-speaking  con 
nections. 

"What  you  say  is  very  true,"  he  admitted 
with  candor.  "It  is  my  fault — my  failing. 
I  know  it  only  too  well. ' ' 

"My  fault  is  bad  manners,"  she  replied, 
disarmed  by  his  self-abasement.  "I  had  no 
business  to  say  it  at  all." 

"Oh,  no,"  he  urged.  "It  is  delightful  to 
me  that  you  did  say  it.  I  could  not  begin 
to  tell  you  how  good  your  words  sounded  in 
my  ears.  Honest  and  wise  criticism  is  what 
I  have  not  heard  before  in  years.  You  do 
not  get  it  in  the  South ;  there  is  flattery  for 
you,  and  sneering,  and  praise  as  much  too 
high  as  blame  is  too  cruel — but  no  candid, 
quiet  judgments.  Oh,  I  loved  to  hear  you 
say  that !  It  was  like  my  brother — my  older 
brother  Salvator.  He  is  in  America  now, 

16 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

He  is  the  only  one  who  always  said  the  truth 
to  me.  And  I  am  glad,  too,  because — 
because  it  makes  you  seem  like  a  friend  to 
me,  and  I  have  been  so  agitated  this  whole 
week,  so  anxious  and  upset,  and  all  without 
a  soul  to  talk  to,  or  advise  with — and  the 
pressure  on  me  has  been  so  great — ' ' 

He  let  the  wandering  sentence  lose  itself 
in  the  clamor  of  the  train,  and  put  the  rest 
of  his  meaning  into  the  glance  with  which 
he  clung  to  hers.  The  appeal  for  sympa 
thetic  kindliness  of  treatment  glowed  in  his 
eyes  and  shone  upon  his  eager  face. 

She  took  time  for  her  answer,  and  when 
she  spoke  it  was  hardly  in  direct  reply. 
4 'Your  business  in  England,"  she  said,  as 
unconcernedly  as  might  be — "it  is  that,  I 
take  it,  which  causes  so  much  anxiety. 
Fortunately  it  is  soon  to  be  settled — to-mor 
row,  I  think  you  said." 

"I  wish  I  might  tell  you  about  it,"  he 
responded  with  frank  fervency.  "I  wish 
it — you  cannot  imagine  how  much!" 

The  look  with  which  she  received  his 
words  recalled  to  him  her  earlier  manner. 
"I'm  afraid — "  she  began,  in  a  measured 
voice,  and  then  stopped.  Intuition  helped 
him  to  read  in  her  face  the  coming  of  a  softer 
mood.  Finally  she  smiled  a  little.  ' '  Really, 
this  is  all  very  quaint,"  she  said,  and  the 
17 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

smile  crept  into  her  voice.     "But  the  train 
is  slowing  down — there  is  no  time  now. 

They  were  indeed  moving  through  the 
street  of  a  town,  at  a  pace  which  had  been 
insensibly  lowered  while  they  talked.  The 
irregular  outlines  of  docks  and  boat-slips, 
overhanging  greenish  water,  revealed  them 
selves  between  dingy  houses  covered  with 
signs  and  posters.  At  the  barriers  crossing 
the  streets  were  clustered  groups  of  philo 
sophic  observers,  headed  by  the  inevitable 
young  soldier  with  his  hands  in  the  pockets 
of  his  red  trousers,  and  flanked  by  those 
brown  old  women  in  white  caps  who  seem 
always  to  be  unoccupied,  yet  mysteriously 
do  everything  that  is  done. 

"This  is  Dieppe,  then?"  he  asked,  with  a 
collecting  hand  put  out  for  his  wraps. 

The  train  had  halted,  and  doors  were  being 
opened  for  tickets. 

"We  sit  still,  here,  and  go  on  to  the 
wharf,"  she  explained. 

1  *  And  then  to  the  boat ! "  he  cried.  *  *  How 
long  is  it? — the  voyage  on  the  boat,  I  mean. 
Three  hours  and  over!  Excellent!" 

She  laughed  outright  as  she  rose,  and  got 
together  her  books  and  papers. 

' '  I  thought  you  were  a  Frenchman  when  I 
first  saw  you,"  she  confided  to  him  over  her 
shoulder.     "But  no  Frenchman  at  Dieppe 
18 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

ever  yet  shouted  'Excellent!'  with  his  face 
turned  toward  the  New  Haven  steamers." 

The  mirth  in  her  tone  was  so  welcome  to 
him  that  he  laughed  in  turn,  without  any 
clear  idea  of  her  words.  He  gathered  her 
handbag  up  along  with  his  own,  and  when 
she  demurred  he  offered  her  gay  defiance. 

"It  is  the  terrible  boldness  of  a  timid 
person,"  he  prattled,  as  he  helped  her  down 
the  steps,  "but  you  must  perceive  that  in  the 
face  of  it  you  are  quite  helpless.  Since  I 
was  born,  I  have  never  really  had  my  own 
way  before.  But  now  I  begin  to  believe  in 
my  star.  After  all,  one  is  not  an  English 
man  for  nothing." 

"Oh,  it  is  comparatively  easy  to  be  an 
Englishman  in  Dieppe,"  she  made  answer, 


CHAPTER    II 

The  sky  was  dappled  azure  overhead,  the 
water  calm  and  fresh-hued  below.  When 
the  ship's  company  had  disposed  itself, 
and  the  vessel  was  making  way  outside, 
there  were  numerous  long  gaps  of  unpeopled 
space  on  the  windy  side,  and  to  one  of  these 
the  young  couple  tacitly  bent  their  steps. 
They  leaned  against  the  rail,  standing  close 
together,  with  their  faces  lifted  to  the  strong 
sweet  breeze. 

Viewed  thus  side  by  side,  it  could  be  seen 
that  of  the  two  the  young  man  was  just  per 
ceptibly  the  taller,  but  his  extreme  fragility 
excused  his  companion's  conception  of  him 
as  a  small  man.  On  his  head  he  had  pulled 
tight  for  the  voyage  a  little  turban  of  a  cap, 
which  accentuated  the  foreign  note  of  his 
features  and  expression.  He  was  dark  of 
skin  and  hair,  with  deep-brown  eyes  both 
larger  and  softer  than  is  common  with  his 
sex,  even  in  the  South.  The  face,  high  and 
regular  in  shape,  had  in  repose  the  careworn 
effect  of  maturer  years  than  the  boyish  figure 
indicated.  In  the  animation  of  discussion 


21 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

this  face  took  on,  for  the  most  part,  the 
rather  somber  brilliancy  of  a  strenuous 
earnestness.  Now,  as  it  confronted  the  stiff 
Channel  wind,  it  was  illumined  by  the 
unaccustomed  light  of  a  frivolous  mood. 
The  ends  of  his  slight  mustache  were  lifted 
in  a  continuous  smile. 

"It  is  my  gayest  day  for  many,  many 
years,"  he  told  her,  after  a  little  pause  in 
the  talk.  They  had  become  great  friends 
in  this  last  half-hour.  In  the  reaction  from 
the  questionable  restraint  of  the  coupe  to  the 
broad,  sunlit  freedom  of  the  steamer's  deck, 
the  girl  had  revealed  in  generous  measure  a 
side  of  her  temperament  for  which  he  had 
been  unprepared.  She  had  a  humorous 
talent,  and,  once  she  had  gained  a  clew  to 
his  perceptive  capacities  in  this  direction,  it 
had  pleased  her  to  make  him  laugh  by  droll 
accounts  of  her  experiences  and  observations 
in  Paris.  She  had  been  there  for  a  fortnight's 
holiday,  quite  by  herself,  she  told  him,  and 
there  was  something  in  her  tone  which 
rendered  it  impossible  for  him  to  ask  himself 
if  this  was  at  all  unusual  among  English 
young  ladies.  His  knowledge  of  Paris  was 
also  that  of  a  stranger,  and  he  followed  her 
whimsical  narrative  of  blunders  and  odd 
mistakes  with  a  zest  heightened  by  a 
recollection  of  his  own. 


22 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

"When  have  I  laughed  so  much  before?" 
he  cried  now.  A  long  sigh,  as  of  surprised 
relief,  followed  his  words.  "Well — I  had 
looked  forward  to  coming  in  a  different  spirit 
to  England.  With  some  hopes  and  a  good 
courage — yes.  But  with  a  merry  heart- 
how  could  I  have  foretold  that?  It  was  my 
good  angel  who  put  that  coupe  ticket  into 
my  head,  and  so  brought  me  to  you.  Ah, 
how  angry  you  were!  I  see  you  now,  pull 
ing  at  that  door. ' ' 

' 4  Ah,  well, ' '  she  said  in  extenuation,  ' '  how 
could  I  know?  I  never  dreamed  that  the 
whole  coupe"  was  not  mine — and  when  I  saw 
that  odious  guard  opening  the  door,  to  force 
in  some  wretched  little  Continental  crea 
ture — I  mean,  that  was  my  momentary 
thought — and  naturally  I— 

An  involuntary  sidelong  glance  of  his  eyes 
upward  toward  the  crown  of  her  hat,  passed 
mute  comment  on  her  unfinished  remark. 
She  bit  her  lip  in  self -reproof  at  sight  of  the 
dusky  flush  on  his  cheek. 

"It  is  the  only  un-English  thing  about 
me,"  he  said,  with  a  pathetically  proud 
attempt  at  a  smile.  "My  father  was  a  tall, 
big  man,  and  so  is  my  brother  Salvator. " 

A  new  consciousness  of  the  susceptibility 
of  this  young   man  to  slights  and  wounds 
spread  in  the  girl's  mind.     It  was  so  cruelly 
23 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

easy  to  prick  his  thin  skin!  But  it  was 
correspondingly  easy  to  soothe  and  charm 
him — and  that  was  the  better  part.  His 
character  and  temperament  mapped  them 
selves  out  before  her  mind's  eye.  She  read 
him  as  at  once  innocent  and  complicated. 
He  could  be  full  of  confidence  in  a  stranger, 
like  herself,  but  his  doubts  about  his  own  val 
ues  were  distressing.  The  uncased  antennae 
of  his  self-consciousness  were  extended  in  all 
directions,  as  if  to  solicit  injury.  She  had 
caught  in  his  brown  eyes  the  suggestion 
of  an  analogy  to  a  friendless  spaniel — the 
capacity  for  infinite  gratitude  united  with 
conviction  that  only  kicks  were  to  be 
expected.  It  was  more  helpful  to  liken  him 
to  a  woman.  In  the  gentle  and  timid  soul  of 
a  convent-bred  maiden  he  nourished  the 
stormy  ambitions  of  a  leader  of  men.  It 
was  a  nun  who  boldly  dreamed  of  command 
ing  on  the  field  of  battle. 

"I  had  a  feeling,"  she  said  to  him,  so 
softly  that  the  tone  was  almost  tender,  "that 
you  must  be  like  your  mother. 

She  rightly  judged  him  to  be  her  elder, 
but  for  the  moment  her  mood  was  absorb 
ingly  maternal.  "Let  us  sit  down  here," 
she  added,  moving  toward  the  bench  facing 
the  rail.  "You  were  going  to  tell  me— 
about  her,  was  it?" 

24 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

He  spread  his  rugs  over  their  knees  as 
they  sat  together  in  the  fresh  wind. 

4 'No,  it  was  not  so  much  of  her,"  he  said. 
* '  I  have  much  to  think  about  her — not  much 
to  put  into  words.  She  died  five  years  ago — 
nearly  six  now — and  I  was  so  much  at  school 
that  I  saw  very  little  of  her  in  the  latter 
years.  Salvator  was  with  her  always, 
though,  to  the  end,  although  he  was  not  her 
own  son.  We  are  half-brothers,  but  no  one 
could  have  been  fonder  than  he  was  of  my 
mother,  or  a  better  son  to  her.  After  she 
died,  he  still  kept  me  in  school,  and  this  was 
curious  too,  because  he  hated  all  my  teachers 
bitterly.  Salvator  is  fierce  against  the 
church,  yet  he  kept  me  where  I  had  been 
put  years  before,  with  the  Christian  Brothers 
at  the  Bon  Rencontre,  in  Toulon.  When  at 
last  I  left  them,  Salvator  took  me  with  him 
for  a  period — he  is  an  expert  and  a  dealer 
in  gems — and  then  I  became  a  private  tutor. 
Four  years  or  so  of  that — and  now  I  am 
here."  He  added,  as  upon  an  afterthought: 
44  You  must  not  think  that  I  failed  to  love 
my  mother.  She  was  sweet  and  good,  and 
very  tender  to  me,  and  I  used  to  weep  a 
great  deal  after  I  left  her,  but  it  was  not  my 
fortune  to  be  so  much  with  her  as  Salvator 
was.  I  think  of  her,  but  there  is  not  much 
to  say." 

25 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

The  repetition  of  this  formula  suggested  no 
comment  to  his  companion,  and  he  went  on. 
14  The  real  memory  of  my  childhood  is  my 
father,    although    I    saw    him    only    once. 
Salvator  says  I  saw  him  oftener,  but  if  so 
all    the     recollections    jumble     themselves 
together    in   my   mind,    to   make    a   single 
.^impression.     I  was  five  years  old ;  it  was  in 
the  early  summer,  in  1875.     My  father  had 
been  fighting  against  the  Prussians  when  I 
was  born.     By  the  time  I  was  old  enough  to 
know  people,  he  was  away  in    Spain   with 
Don  Carlos.     He  died  there,  of  wounds  and 
fever,   at  Seo  de  Urge!,  in  August  of  that 
same  year,  1875.     But  first  he  came  to  see 
us — it  would  have  been  in  June,  I  think — 
and  we  were  living  at  Cannes.     He  had  some 
secret    Carlist  business,    Salvator  says.      I 
knew  nothing  of  that.     I  know  only  that  I 
saw  him,  and  understood  very  well  who  he 
was,  and  fixed  him  in  my  mind  so  that   I 
should  never,  never  forget  him.   How  strange 
a  thing  it  is  about  children !     I  have  only  the 
dimmest    general   idea  of  how   my  mother 
looked    when    I    was   that    age;    I    cannot 
remember  her  at  all  in  the  odd  clothes  which 
her  pictures  show  she  wore  then,  though  I 
saw  them  constantly.     Yet  my  father  comes 
once  and  I   carry  his  image  till  Judgment 
Day." 

26 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

"Poor  mothers!"  sighed  the  girl,  under 
her  breath.  "No,  it  was  nothing.  Go  on." 

"I  knew  that  he  was  a  soldier,  and  that 
wherever  there  were  wars  he  went  to  have 
his  share  of  fighting.  I  suppose  it  was  this 
which  gripped  my  imagination,  even  as  a 
baby.  I  could  read  when  I  was  five,  and 
Salvator  had  told  me  about  our  father's 
battles.  He  had  been  in  the  Mutiny  in  India, 
and  he  was  in  Sicily  against  Garibaldi,  and 
he  was  with  the  Austrians  four  years  before  I 
was  born,  and  in  the  French  Foreign  Legion 
afterward.  I  think  I  knew  all  this  when  I 
saw  him — and  if  I  did  not,  then  I  feel  that  I 
could  have  learned  it  from  just  looking  at 
him.  He  was  like  a  statue  of  War.  Ah, 
how  I  remember  him — the  tall,  strong, 
straight,  dark,  hardfaced,  silent  man!" 

"And  you  loved  /«;;//"  commented  his 
companion,  with  significance. 

He  shook  his  head  smilingly.  The  analysis 
in  retrospect  of  his  own  childish  emotions 
had  a  pleasant  interest  for  him.  "  No ;  there 
was  no  question  of  love,  at  all.  For  exam 
ple,  he  liked  Salvator — who  was  then  a  big 
boy  of  fifteen — and  he  took  him  off  to  Spain 
with  him  when  he  left.  I  cannot  remem 
ber  that  he  so  much  as  put  his  hand  on  my 
head,  or  paid  the  slightest  attention  to  me. 
He  looked  at  me  in  a  grave  way  if  I  put 
27 


GLORIA   MUNDT 

myself  in  front  of  his  eyes,  just  as  he  looked 
at  other  things,  but  he  would  not  turn  his 
eyes  to  follow  me  if  I  moved  aside.     Do 
you  know  that  to  my  fancy  that  was  superb? 
I  was  not  in  the  least  jealous  of  Salvator. 
I  only  said  to  myself  that  when  I  was  has 
awe     I   also  would  march  to   fight   m  my 
father's  battles.     And  I  was  proud  that  he 
did  not  bend  to  me,  or  put  himse If  < >ut  to 
please  me,    this  huge,   cold-eyed,   lion-like 
father  of  mine.     If  he  had  ever  kissed  me 
I  should  have  been  ashamed-for  us  both. 
But  nothing  was  farther  from  his  thoughts 
He  went  away,  and  at  the  door  he  spoke  for 
the  first  time  in  my  hearing  of  me. 
twisted  his  thumb  toward  me,  where  I  stood 
in    the     shelter    of    my    mother's    skirts 
Mind    he's  an   Englishman!  he    said-and 
turned  on  his  heel.     I  have  the  words  in  my 
ears  still.     '  Mind,  he's  an  Englishman ! 
"  There  is  England ! "     she  cried. 
They  stood  up,  and  his  eager  eye,  follow 
ing  the  guidance  of  her  finger,  found  the 
fafnt  broken,  thin  line  of  white  on  the  dis 
tant  water's  edge.     Above  it,  as  if  they  were 
a  part  of  it,  hung  in  a  figured  curtain  soft 
clouds  which  were  taking  on  a  rosy  tint : 
the  declining  sun.     He  gazed  at  the  remote 
prospect  in    silence,  but  with  a  quickened 


breath. 

28 


GLORIA    MUNDI 

"It  is  the  first  time  that  /have  seen  it  like 
this — coming  toward  it,  I  mean,  from  some 
where  else, "  she  remarked  at  last.  "I  had 
never  been  outside  England  before." 

He  did  not  seem  to  hear  her.  With 
another  lingering,  clinging  gaze  at  the 
white  speck,  he  shook  himself  a  little,  and 
turned.  "And  now  I  want  to  tell  you  about 
this  new,  wonderful  thing — about  why  I  am 
this  minute  within  sight  of  England.  You 
will  say  it  is  very  strange." 

They  moved  to  their  bench  again,  and  he 
spread  the  wraps  once  more,  but  this  time 
they  did  not  sit  quite  so  close  together.  It 
was  as  if  the  mere  sight  of  that  pale,  respect 
able  slip  of  land  on  the  horizon  had  in  some 
subtle  way  affected  their  relation  to  each 
other. 

"A  week  ago,"  he  began  afresh,  "at  Nice, 
a  messenger  from  the  Credit  Lyonnais 
brought  me  a  note  saying  they  wished  to  see 
me  at  the  bank.  They  had,  it  seems, 
searched  for  me  in  several  towns  along  the 
Riviera,  because  I  had  been  moving  about. 
It  was  demanded  that  I  should  prove  my 
identity  by  witnesses,  and  when  that  was 
done  I  was  given  a  sum  of  money,  and  a 
sealed  letter  addressed  to  me,  bearing  simply 
my  name,  Mr.  Christian  Tower — nothing 
more,  I  hurried  outside  and  read  its  con- 
29 


GLORIA  MUNDI 
tents.     I  was  requested  to  get  together  all 

my  papers — 

He  stopped  short,    arrested  by  a  sharp, 
half -stifled  exclamation  from  her  lips, 
had  continued  looking  at  him  after  his  men- 
tion  of  hisname-at  first  absent-mindedly, 
as  if  something  in  his  talk  had ^  sent  her 
thoughts  unconsciously   astray;    then  wit 
lifted  head,  and  brows  bent  together  in  evi 
dent  concentration  upon  some  new  phas, 
What  he  had  been  saying.     Now  she  inter 
rupted  him  with  visible  excitement. 

••You  say  Christian  Tower!"  She  pushed 
the  words  at  him  hurriedly.  "What  was 
your  father's  name?" 

"He  was  always  known  as  Captain  Tower, 
but  I  have  read  it  in  my  papers-his  t 
name  was  Ambrose." 

She  had  risen  to  her  feet,  in  evident .agita 
tion,  and  now  strode  across  to  the  rail     As 
he  essayed  to  follow  her,   she  turned,  and 
forced  the  shadow  of  a  smile  into  her  lips; 
her   eyes   remained  frightened, 
right  "  she  said  with  a  gasping  attempt  at 
reassurance.  "I  was  queer  for  just  an  instant ; 
it's  all  right.     Go  on,  please.     You  were  to 
sret  together  your  papers—" 
1  "And  bring  them  to  Brighton,"  he  said 
much    disconcerted.^    "That     is    all. 
won't  you  sit  down?" 


30 


GLORIA   MUNDl 

"I  think  I  would  rather  stand,"  she 
answered.  Her  composure  was  returning, 
and  with  it  the  power  to  view  altogether,  and 
in  their  proper  relation  to  one  another,  the 
several  elements  of  the  situation  his  words 
had  revealed  to  her.  Upon  examination,  it 
was  curiosity  that  she  felt  rather  than  per 
sonal  concern — an  astonished  and  most 
exigent  curiosity.  But  even  before  this, 
it  grew  apparent  to  her  as  she  thought,  came 
her  honorable  duty  to  this  young  man  who 
had  confided  in  her. 

"I  think  I  ought  to  tell  you,"  she  began, 
beckoning  him  nearer  where  she  stood ;  "yes, 
you  should  be  told  that  in  all  human  proba 
bility  I  know  the  story.  It  is  impossible  that 
I  should  be  mistaken — two  such  names  never 
got  together  by  accident.  And  I  can  assure 
you  that  the  whole  thing  is  even  more  extra 
ordinary  and  astounding  than  you  can  pos 
sibly  imagine.  There  are  people  in  England 
who  will  curl  up  like  leaves  thrown  on  the 
fire  when  they  see  you.  But  for  the 
moment" — she  paused,  with  a  perplexed 
face  and  hesitating  voice — "go  on;  tell  me  a 
little  more.  It  isn't  clear  to  me— how  much 
you  know.  Don't  be  afraid;  I  will  be 
entirely  frank  with  you,  when  you  have 
finished." 

He  patted  the  rail  nervously  with  his  hand, 

31 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

and  stared  at  her  in  pained  bewilderment 
and  impatience.  "How  much  do  I  know?" 
he  faltered  vaguely.  "Very  little;  almost 
nothing.  There  was  no  explanation  in  the 
letter.  The  bankers  said  nothing,  save  that 
they  were  to  give  me  a  thousand  francs. 
But  one  does  not  get  a  thousand  francs 
merely  because  the  wind  has  changed. 
There  must  be  a  reason  for  it;  and  what 
reason  is  possible  except  that  there  is  some 
inheritance  for  me?  So  I  argued  it  out — to 
myself.  I  have  thought  of  nothing  else, 
awake  or  asleep,  for  the  whole  week." 

He  halted,  with  anxious  appeal  in  his  eyes, 
and  his  hands  outspread  to  beseech  enlight 
enment  from  her.  She  nodded  to  show  that 
she  understood.  "In  a  minute  or  two,  when 
I  have  got  it  into  shape  in  my  mind, ' '  she 
said  soothingly.  "But  meantime  go  on.  I 
want  you  to  talk.  What  have  you  done 
during  the  week?" 

Christian  threw  his  hands  outward. 
"Done?"  he  asked  plaintively.  "Murdered 
time  some  way  or  the  other.  I  was  free  to 
move  an  hour  after  I  had  read  the  letter.  The 
money  was  more  than  I  had  ever  had  before. 
It  was  intolerable  to  me — the  thought  of  not 
being  in  motion.  In  the  'Indicateur'  I  got 
the  times  of  trains,  and  I  formed  my  plan. 
Avignon  I  had  never  seen,  and  then  Le 
32 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

Puy — there  was  a  wonderful  description  of 
it  in  a  magazine  I  had  read — and  then  to 
Paris,  and  next  to  Rouen.  It  was  at  Rouen 
that  I  slept  last  night.  It  was  my  first 
night's  good  sleep — I  had  tired  myself  out 
so  completely.  Always  walking  with  the 
map  in  my  mind,  going  from  one  church  to 
another,  talking  to  the  Suisse,  bending  back 
my  head  to  examine  capitals  and  arches, 
forcing  myself  to  take  an  interest  in  what  I 
saw  every  little  minute — so  I  have  come 
somehow  through  the  week.  But  now  here 
is  rich  England  within  plain  sight,  and  here 
are  you,  my  new  friend — and  all  my  life  I 
have  been  so  poor  and  without  friends!" 

He  tightened  his  hand  upon  the  rail,  and 
abruptly  turned  his  face  away.  She  saw  the 
shine  of  tears  in  his  eyes. 

4 'Come  and  sit  down  again,"  she  said, 
with  a  sisterly  hand  on  his  arm.  "I  know 
how  to  tell  it  to  you  now. ' ' 

"But  you  truly  know  nothing  about  the 
Towers — or  Torrs — your  father's  family?" 
she  continued,  when  they  were  once  again 
seated.  * *  It  sounds  incredible !  I  can  hardly 
realize  how  you  could  have  lived  all  these 
years  and  not — but  how  old  are  you?  " 

"Twenty-six." 

" — And  not  got  some  inkling  of  who — of 
who  your  father  was?" 

33 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

"My  mother  never  told  me.  Perhaps  she 
did  not  know  altogether,  herself.  I  cannot 
say  as  to  that.  And  if  Salvator  knew— that 
I  cannot  tell,  either.  He  is  a  curious  man, 
my  brother  Salvator.  He  talks  so  you  would 
think  you  saw  him  inside  out— but  he  keeps 
many  things  to  himself  none  the  less." 

"Yes— that  brother  of  yours,"  she  said 
abstractedly.  "I  have  been  thinking  about 
him.  But  it  can't  be  that  he  has  any  impor 
tance  in  the  game,  else  the  Jews  would  have 
sent  for  him  instead  of  you.  ^  They  waste  no 
time,— they  make  no  errors." 

"The  Jews!"  he  murmured  at  her,  with 
no  comprehension  in  his  eyes. 

She  smiled.  "I  have  been  arranging  it  in 
my  mind.  The  thing  was  like  a  black  fog  to 
me  when  you  first  spoke.  I  had  to  search 
about  for  a  light  before  I  could  make  a  start. 
But  when  I  stumbled  across  the  thought, 
'It  is  the  Jews'  work,'  then  it  was  not  very 
hard  to  make  out  the  rest.  I  could  almost 
tell  you  who  it  is  that  is  to  meet  you  at 
Brighton.  It  is  Mr.  Soman.  Is  it  not?" 

He  assented  with  an  impulsive  movement 
of  head  and  hands  The  gaze  that  he  fixed 
upon  her  sparkled  with  excitement. 

44  He  is  Lord  Julius'  man  of  business, "  she 
explained  to  his  further  mystification.     "No 
doubt  he  has  had  one  of  those  green  eyes  of 
34 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

his  on  you  ever  since  you  were  a  fortnight 
old.  It  frightens  one  to  think  of  it — the 
merciless  and  unerring  precision  of  their 
system.  Is  there  anything  they  don't  know?" 

4 '  I  am  afraid  of  Jews  myself, ' '  he  faltered, 
striving  to  connect  himself  with  what  he 
dimly  perceived  of  her  mood.  "But  what 
have  they  against  me?  What  can  they  do  to 
me?  I  owe  nothing;  they  can't  make  me 
responsible  for  what  other  people,  strangers 
to  me,  have  done,  can  they?  And  why  should 
they  give  me  a  thousand  francs?  It  is  I," 
he  finished  hopelessly,  "I  who  am  in  the 
black  fog.  Tell  me,  I  beg  you,  what  is  it 
that  they  want  with  me?" 

She  put  a  reassuring  hand  upon  his  arm, 
and  the  steady,  genial  light  in  her  calm  eyes 
brought  him  instantaneous  solace.  "You 
have  not  the  slightest  cause  for  fear, ' '  she 
told  him,  gently.  "Quite  the  contrary. 
They  are  not  going  to  hurt  you.  So  far 
from  it,  they  have  taken  you  up ;  they  will 
wrap  you  in  cotton-wool  and  nurse  you  as  if 
you  were  the  Koh-i-noor  diamond.  You 
may  rest  easy,  my  dear  sir ;  you  may  close 
your  eyes,  and  fold  your  hands,  and  lean 
back  against  Israel  as  heavily  as  you  like. 
It  is  all  right  so  far  as  you  are  concerned. 
But  the  others" — she  paused,  and  looked 
seaward  with  lifted  brows  and  a  mouth 

35 


GLORIA  MUNDI 

twisted  to  express  sardonic  comment  upon 
some  amazing  new  outlook — "eye-ee!  the 
others!" 

"Still  you  do  not  tell  me!"  For  the  first 
time  she  caught  in  his  voice  the  hint  of  a 
virile,  and  even  an  imperious  note.  Behind 
the  half-petulant  entreaty  of  the  tired  boy, 
there  was  a  man's  spirit  of  dictation.  She 
deferred  to  it  unconsciously. 

4  'The  Lord  Julius  that  I  spoke  of  is — let  me 
see  —  he  is  your  great-uncle  —  your  grand 
father's  younger  brother." 

"But  if  he  is  a  Jew—"  began  Christian,  in 
an  awed  whisper. 

"No — no;  he  is  nothing  of  the  sort.  That 
is  to  say,  he  is  not  Jewish  in  blood.  But  he 
married  a  great  heiress  of  the  race — whole 
millions  sterling  came  to  him  from  the  huge 
fortune  of  the  Aronsons  in  Holland — and 
he  likes  Jewish  people — of  the  right  sort.  He 
is  an  old  man  now,  and  his  son,  Emanuel, 
has  immense  influence  over  him.  You 
should  see  them  sitting  together  like  two 
love-birds  on  a  perch.  They  idolize  each 
other,  and  they  both  worship  Emanuel' s 
wife.  If  they  weren't  the  two  best  men  in 
the  world,  and  if  she  weren't  the  most 
remarkable  woman  anywhere,  they  would 
utterly  spoil  her." 

" He  —  this    lord  — is    my    great-uncle," 
36 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

Christian  recalled  her  to  his  subject.     "He 
and  his  son  are  good  men. " 

4 'They  are  the  ones  I  referred  to  as  the 
Jews.  That  is  how  they  are  spoken  of  in 
the  family— to  distinguish  them  from  the 
senior  branch — the  sons  and  grandsons  of 
your  grandfather.  Fix  that  distinction  in 
you  mind.  There  is  the  elder  group,  who 
have  titles  and  miles  of  mortgaged  estates, 
no  money  to  speak  of  and  still  less  brains—' ' 

"That  is  the  group  that  I  belong  to?" 
He  offered  the  interruption  with  a  little 
twinkle  in  his  eyes.  It  was  patent  that  his 
self-possession  had  returned.  Even  this  lim 
ited  and  tentative  measure  of  identification 
with  the  most  desirable  and  deep-rooted 
realities  in  that  wonderful  island  that  he 
could  see  coming  nearer  to  meet  him,  had 
sufficed  to  quell  the  restless  flutter  of  his 
nerves. 

She  nodded  with  a  responsive  gleam  of 
sportiveness  on  her  face.  "Yes,  your  place 
in  it  is  a  very  curious  one.  But  first  get  this 
clear  in  your  mind — that  the  younger  group, 
whom  they  speak  of  as  the  Jews,  have  money 
beyond  counting,  and  have  morals  and  intel 
ligence  moreover.  Between  these  two 
groups  no  love  is  lost.  In  fact,  they  hate 
each  other.  The  difference  is  the  Christians 
go  about  cursing  the  Jews,  whereas  the  Jews 
37 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

wisely  shrug  their  shoulders  and  say  noth 
ing.  No  one  suspected  that  they  would  do 
anything,  either — but — oh,  this  is  going  to 
be  an  awful  business!" 

He  held  himself  down  to  a  fine  semblance 
of  dignified  calm.  "Tell  me  more, "  he  bade 
her,  with  an  effect  of  temperate  curiosity. 

"Now  comes  tragedy,"  she  went  on,  and 
the  hint  of  sprightliness  disappeared  from  her 
face  and  tone.  *  *  It  is  really  one  of  the  most 
terrible  stories  that  could  be  told.  There  is 
a  very  aged  man — he  must  be  nearly  ninety 
— lying  at  death's  door  in  his  great  seat  in 
Shropshire.  He  is  at  death's  door,  I  said, 
but  he  has  the  strength  and  will  of  a  giant, 
and  though  he  is  half  paralyzed,  half  blind, 
half  everything,  still  he  has  his  weight 
against  the  door,  and  no  one  knows  how 
long  he  can  hold  it  closed.  It  is  your  grand 
father  that  I  am  speaking  of.  His  name 
also  is -Christian. " 

The  young  man  nodded  gravely.  "My 
father  would  have  fought  death  that  way 
too,  if  they  had  not  shot  him  to  pieces,  and 
heaped  fever  on  top  of  that,"  he  com 
mented. 

The  girl  bit  her  lip  and  flushed  awkwardly 

for  an  instant.      "Let  me  go  on,"  she  said 

then,  and  hurried  forward.     "This  old  man 

had  three   sons — not    counting   the   priest, 

38 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

Lord  David,  who  doesn't  come  into  the 
thing.  The  first  of  these  sons,  also  Chris 
tian,  had  three  sons,  and  he  and  they  were 
all  alive  six  months  ago.  They  are  all  dead 
now,  two  drowned  in  their  yacht,  one  lost 
in  the  'Castle  Drummond,'  one  killed  in 
Matabeleland.  Lord  David,  the  priest,  the 
next  brother,  died  last  year — childless  of 
course.  There  remained  in  England  two 
sons  of  another  brother  who  died  some  years 
ago,  Lord  Edward,  and  this  horrible  mow 
ing  down  of  human  lives  left  them  appar 
ently  nearest  to  the  very  aged  man,  your 
grandfather.  Do  you  follow  all  that?" 

"I  think  I  do,"  said  Christian.  "If  I 
don't  I  will  pick  it  up  afterward.  In 
mercy's  name,  do  not  stop!" 

4 'The  Jews,  saying  nothing,  had  lost  sight 
of  nothing.  There  was  still  another  brother 
who  had  lived  abroad  for  many  years,  who 
died  abroad  twenty  years  ago.  You  are 
getting  to  the  climax  now.  The  Jews  must 
have  kept  an  eye  on  this  wandering  cousin 
of  theirs ;  it  is  evident  they  knew  he  left  a 
son  capable  of  inheriting,  and  that  they 
did  not  let  this  son  escape  from  view. 
Because  Lord  Ambrose  Torr  was  older  than 
Lord  Edward,  his  brother,  it  happens  now 
that  the  son  of  that  Ambrose— 

The  young  man  abruptly  rose,  and  moved 

39 


GLORIA   MUND1 

along  to  the  rail.  He  had  signified  by  a 
rapid  backward  gesture  of  the  hand  his 
momentary  craving  for  solitude ;  he  stretched 
this  hand  now  slowly,  as  if  unconsciously, 
toward  the  sunset  glow  on  sky  and  sea,  in 
the  heart  of  which  lay  imbedded  a  thick  line 
of  cream-colored  cliffs,  escalloped  under  a 
close  covering  of  soft  olive-hued  verdure. 
The  profile  of  his  uplifted  face,  as  he  gazed 
thus  before  him  into  the  light,  seemed  to 
the  eyes  of  the  girl  transfigured. 

He  stood  thus,  rapt  and  motionless,  for 
minutes,  until  her  mind  had  time  to  formu 
late  the  suspicion  that  this  was  all  intoler 
able  play-acting,  and  to  dismiss  it  again  as 
unworthy.  Then  he  returned  all  at  once  to 
her  side,  apparently  with  a  shamefaced  kind 
of  perception  of  her  thoughts.  He  was 
flushed  and  uneasy,  and  shuffled  his  hands 
in  and  out  of  the  pockets  of  his  great-coat. 
He  did  not  seat  himself,  but  stood  looking 
down  at  her. 

"What   is    my    grandfather?"    he  asked, 
with  a  husky,  difficult  voice. 
"The  Duke  of  Glastonbury. " 
"I  do  not  understand,"  he  began,    hesi 
tatingly;    "it  is  not  clear  to  me  about  my 
father.     Why  should  he- 
She  rose  in  turn,  with  swift  decision,  as  if 
she  had  been  alertly  watching  for  the  ques- 
40 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

tion.  "That  is  what  you  must  not  ask  me," 
she  said,  hurriedly.  "I  think  I  will  move 
about  a  little.  The  wind  is  colder  here.  I 
am  getting  chilled. " 

They  strolled  about  together,  conducting 
a  fitful  conversation,  but  as  often  gazing  in 
silence  at  the  bulk  of  the  headlands  they 
were  approaching,  gray  and  massive  now  in 
the  evening  light.  •  She  answered  freely 
enough  the  queries  he  put,  but  between 
these  he  lapsed  into  an  abstraction  which  she 
respected.  More  than  once  he  spoke  of  the 
extraordinary  confusion  into  which  her  story 
had  thrown  his  thoughts,  and  she  philo 
sophically  replied  that  she  could  well  under 
stand  it. 

An  hour  later  they  had  passed  the  fatuous 
inspection  of  the  customs  people,  and  con 
fronted  the  imminence  of  leave-taking. 
Constraint  enveloped  them  as  in  a  mantle. 

It  occurred  suddenly  to  him  to  say :  ' '  How 
strange!  You  possess  the  most  extraordi 
nary  knowledge  of  me  and  my — my  people, 
and  yet  the  thought  just  comes  to  me — I 
have  not  so  much  as  asked  your  name." 

She  smiled  at  him  with  a  new  light  in  her 
eyes,  half  kind,  half  ironically  roguish.  "If 
I  may  confess  it,  there  have  been  times  to 
day  when  I  was  annoyed  with  you  for  being 
so  persistently  and  indefatigably  interested 
41 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

in  yourself — for  never  dreaming  of  wonder 
ing,  speculating,  inquiring  something  about 
me.  But  that  was  very  weak  of  me — I  see 
it  now — and  very  wise  of  you,  because — 
what  does  it  matter  about  a  nobody  like 
me? — but  next  week  the  whole  world  will  be 
bearing  witness  that  you  are  the  most  inter 
esting  young  man  in  England." 

He  gave  a  swift  glance  down  the  train 
toward  the  guards  noisily  shutting  the  doors. 
"No,  it  is  too  bad,"  he  said,  nervously. 
"You  will  always  be  my  first  friend  in 
England — my  very  deeply  prized  friend 
everywhere.  I  know  you  only  to-day — but 
that  day  is  more  to  me  than  all  the  rest  of 
my  life — and  it  is  full  of  you.  They  are 
closing  the  doors — but  you  will  tell  me? 
The  notion  of  not  seeing  you  again  is  ridicu 
lous.  You  are  in  London — yes? — then  how 
do  you  think  I  could  come  to  London  with 
out  first  of  all,  before  everything  else,  want 
ing  to  call  upon  you?" 

"Oh,  I  daresay  we  shall  meet  again,"  she 
answered,  as  perforce  he  stepped  into  the 
compartment.  Her  smile  had  a  puzzling 
quality  in  it — something  compounded,  it 
seemed  to  him,  of  both  fear  and  fun.  "In 
a  remote  kind  of  way  I  am  mixed  up  with 
the  story  myself. ' ' 

There  was  no  time  for  any  hope  of  further 
42 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

explanation.  He  put  his  head  out  of  the 
window,  and  shook  hands  again.  "Remem 
ber  ! "  he  called  out  fervently.  *  *  You  are  my 
first  friend  in  England.  Whenever — what 
ever  I  can  do — " 

"Even  to  the  half  of  your  kingdom!"  she 
laughed  at  him,  as  the  movement  of  the 
carriage  drew  him  past  her. 

The  tone  of  these  last  words,  which  he 
bore  away  with  him,  had  been  gay — almost 
jovial.  But  the  girl,  when  she  had  watched 
him  pass  out  of  sight,  turned  and  walked 
slowly  off  in  the  direction  of  her  own  train 
with  a  white  and  troubled  face. 


43 


CHAPTER  III 

Many  builders  in  their  day  have  put  a 
hand  to  the  making  of  Caermere  Hall. 
Though  there  were  wide  differences  of  race 
and  language  among  them  and  though  the 
long  chain  of  time  which  binds  them  together 
has  generations  and  even  centuries  for  its 
links,  they  seem  to  have  had  thus  much  in 
common:  they  were  all  at  feud  with  the 
sunlight. 

On  the  very  pick  of  summer  days,  when 
the  densest  thickets  of  Clune  Forest  are  alive 
to  the  core  with  moving  green  reflections  of 
the  outer  radiance,  and  hints  of  the  glory  up 
above  pierce  their  way  to  the  bottom  of  the 
narrowest  ravine  through  which  the  black 
Devor  churns  and  frets,  somehow  Caermere 
remains  wrapped  in  its  ancient  shadows. 

The  first  men,  in  some  forgotten  time, 
laid  its  foundations  with  no  thought  save  of 
the  pass  at  the  foot  to  be  defended.  Later 
artificers  reared  thick  walls  upon  these 
foundations,  pushed  out  towered  curtains, 
sank  wells,  lifted  the  keep,  cut  slits  of  corner 
windows  or  crowned  the  fabric  with  new 

45 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

turrets  for  watchmen,  each  after  the  need  or 
fashion  of  his  age,  but  all  with  minds  single 
to  the  idea  of  blocking  the  path  that 
Caermere  overhung.  In  due  time  came  the 
breath  of  the  king's  peace,  blowing  equably 
over  the  vexed  marches,  albeit  loaded  with 
the  scent  of  gunpowder,  and  my  lords  slowly 
put  aside  their  iron  harness  for  silken 
jackets,  and  unslung  the  herses  in  their  gate 
ways.  Men  of  skill  set  now  about  the  task 
of  expanding  the  turfed  spaces  within  the 
inclosure,  of  spreading  terraces  and  forming 
gardens,  of  turning  stone  chambers  into 
dames'  apartments,  and  sullen  guard-rooms 
into  banquet-halls.  Their  grandsons,  in 
turn,  pulled  down  even  more  than  they 
erected;  where  the  mightiest  walls  had 
shouldered  their  huge  bulk,  these  men  of 
Elizabeth  and  James  left  thin  facades  of 
brickwork,  and  beams  of  oak  set  in  a  trivial 
plaster  casing.  The  old  barbican  was  not 
broad  enough  to  span  their  new  roadway, 
stretching  to  the  valley  below  over  the  track 
of  the  former  military  path,  and  they  blew 
it  up;  the  pleasure-ground,  which  they 
extended  by  moving  far  backward  the  wall 
of  the  tilting  yard,  was  bare  of  aspect  to 
their  eye,  and  they  planted  it  with  yews  and, 
later,  with  cedars  from  the  Lebanon. 

Through    all    these     changes,    Caermere 
46 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

remained  upon  its  three  sides  shadowed  by 
great  hills,  and  the  thought  of  making  wide 
windows  in  the  walls  on  the  open  fourth  side 
came  to  no  one.  When  at  last,  in  the  earlier 
Georgian  time,  the  venerable  piles  of 
bastioned  masonry  here  were  replaced  by  a 
feebly  polite  front  of  lath  and  stucco,  win 
dows  were  indeed  cut  to  the  very  floor,  in 
the  French  style,  but  meanwhile  the  trees 
had  grown  into  a  high  screen  against  the 
sky,  and  it  was  not  in  the  Torr  blood  to  level 
timber. 

When  a  house  and  family  have  lived 
together  for  a  thousand  years,  it  is  but 
reasonable  that  they  should  have  come  to 
an  understanding  with  each  other.  Was 
Caermere  dark  because  the  mood  of  the  Torrs, 
its  makers  and  masters,  had  from  the  dawn 
of  things  been  saturnine?  Or  did  the  Torrs 
owe  their  historic  gloom  and  dourness  of 
temperament  to  the  influence  of  this  somber 
cradle  of  their  race?  There  is  record  of  the 
query  having  been  put,  in  a  spirit  of  banter, 
by  a  gentleman  who  rode  over  Clune  bridge 
in  the  train  of  King  John.  Of  convincing 
answer  there  is  none  to  this  latest  day.  The 
Torrs  are  a  dark  folk,  and  Caermere  is  a 
dark  house.  They  belong  to  one  another 
and  that  is  all. 

Thus,  on  the  first  morning  of  October,  a 

47 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

gray  and  overcast  morning  even  on  the  hill 
tops,  and  though  it  was  past  the  half-hour 
cowards  nine,  there  was  barely  light  enough 
to  see  one's  way  about  by  in  the  big  break 
fast-room. 

A  tall  young  man  in  rough,  light-brown 
clothes  stood  at  one  of  the  windows,  drum 
ming  idly  on  the  glass  and  staring  at  the 
black  cedars  beyond  the  lawn.  At  intervals 
he  whistled  under  his  breath,  in  a  sulky 
fashion,  some  primitive  snatches  of  an 
unknown  tune.  Once  or  twice  he  yawned, 
and  then  struck  a  vicious  ring  from  the 
panes  with  his  hard  nails,  in  protesting  com 
ment  upon  his  boredom. 

About  the  large  fireplace  behind  him  were 
dishes  huddled  for  heat,  and  their  metallic 
gleam  in  the  flicker  of  the  flames  was 
repeated  farther  awray  in  the  points  of  red 
on  the  plate  and  glass  of  the  long  breakfast 
table  spread  in  the  center  of  the  room. 
From  time  to  time  a  white-faced  young 
ster  in  livery  entered  the  room,  performed 
some  mysterious  service  at  the  hearth  or 
the  table  in  the  dim  twilight  and  went  out 
again. 

The  man  at  the  window  paid  no  heed  to 

the  goings  and  comings  of  the  servant,  but 

when  the  door  opened  presently  and  another 

tweed-clad  figure  entered,  his  ear  told  him 

48 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

the  difference  on  the   instant,   and  he  half 
turned  his  head. 

"In  God's  name,  what  are  you  all  doing?" 
he  growled  angrily.  "I  said  eight — you 
heard  me ! — sharp  eight ! ' ' 

"What  does  it  matter?"  protested  the  new 
comer,  stooping  at  the  fire-place  to  lift  the 
covers  from  the  dishes  in  a  languid  inspec 
tion  of  their  contents.  He  yawned  as  he 
spoke.  "If  you  won't  let  fellows  go  to  bed 
till  four,  how  the  devil  do  you  expect  them 
to  be  down  at  eight?" 

"Oh,  is  that  you,  Pirie?"  said  the  man  at 
the  window.  ' 1 1  thought  it  was  my  brother. ' ' 

The  other  stood  for  a  moment,  with  his 
back  to  the  fire.  Then  he  lounged  to  the 
window,  stretching  his  arms  as  he  moved. 
He  also  was  tall,  but  with  a  scattering  of 
gray  in  his  hair. 

"Beastly  black  morning,"  he  commented 
in  drowsy  tones,  after  a  prolonged  observa 
tion  of  the  prospect.  4  *  Might  as  well  stopped 
in  bed." 

"Well,  go  back  then!"  snapped  the  other. 
" I  didn't  make  the  rotten  weather,  did  I?" 

This  was  wanton  ill-temper.  The  elder 
man  also  began  drumming  with  his  nails  on 
the  window.  "Turn  it  up,  Eddy,"  he 
remonstrated,  smoothly  enough,  but  with  a 
latent  snarl  in  his  tone.  "I  don't  like  it." 

49 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

The  younger  man  moved  his  head,  as  if 
he  would  have  looked  his  companion  in  the 
face.  Then  he  stared  away  again,  out  of  the 
window. 

"Beaters  been  waitin'  half  an  hour 
already,"  he  grumbled,  sulkily.  "What's 
the  good  of  makin'  a  time  if  you  don't  keep 
it?" 

"I  didn't  make  any  time,"  responded 
Major  Pirie  with  curtness.  Upon  reflection, 
he  added:  "What  does  it  matter  about  the 
beaters?" 

There  seemed  no  answer  to  this,  and  for 
several  minutes  nothing  was  said.  Finally 
the  younger  man  thought  of  something.  ' '  I 
say,"  he  began,  and  after  an  instant's  pause 
went  on:  "It'd  suit  me  better  not  to  be 
called  'Eddy'  among  the  men,  d'ye  see? 
That  fellow  Burlington  began  it  last  night- 
he  got  it  from  you — and  I  don't  like  it. 
When  we're  alone,  of  course,  that's 
different." 

Major  Pirie  laughed — a  dry,  brief,  harsh 
laugh — and  swung  around  on  his  heels. 
"Your  man  didn't  get  those  sausages  I 
asked  for,  after  all,"  he  remarked,  going 
back  to  the  dishes  at  the  fender. 

"Probably  couldn't,"  said  Mr.  Edward, 
"or  else,"  he  added,  "wouldn't.  I  never 
saw  such  a  houseful  of  brutes  and  duffers. 


GLORIA    MUNDI 

I'm  keen  to  shunt  the  lot  of  'em,  and  they 
know  it,  the  beggars.  You'd  think  they'd 
try  to  suck  up  to  me,  but  they  don't,  they 
haven't  got  brains  enough." 

The  major  had  brought  a  plate  from  the 
table,  and  was  filling  it  from  under  the 
covers  on  the  hearth.  "Shall  I  ring  for  the 
tea?"  he  asked. 

Mr.  Edward  moved  across  to  the  chimney 
corner  and  pulled  the  cord  himself.  "Do 
you  know  what  that  old  ass,  Barlow  —  the 
butler,  you  know — had  the  face  to  say  to  me 
yesterday?  *!' — God,  you  couldn't  believe 
it!  'I  'ope,  sir,'  he  says,  'you'll  think  better 
of  shootin'  on  the  First,  for  His  Grace'll  hear 
the  guns  in  the  covers,  and  it  won't  do  His 
Grace  no  good. '  Fancy  the  beggar's  cheek ! ' ' 

"Well,  do  you  know,  Torr,"  said  Major 
Pirie,  slowly,  speaking  with  his  mouth  full 
but  contriving  to  give  a  significantly  nice 
emphasis  to  the  name,  "I  was  thinkin'  much 
the  same  myself.  For  that  matter,  several 
of  the  fellows  were  mentionin'  it.  It  doesn't 
look  quite  the  thing,  you  know. ' '_ 

The  entrance  of  the  servant  created  an 
interval  ofeilence,  during  which  Mr.  Edward 
in  his  turn  rummaged  among  the  dishes 
before  the  fire. 

"It's  Gus,  is  it?"  he  demanded,  from 
where  he  knelt  on  one  knee,  plate  in  hand. 
51 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

4 'He  thought  it  would  be  funny  to  queer  my 
game,  eh?" 

"Your  brother  hasn't  said  a  word,  so  far's 
I  know,"  replied  the  major,  pouring  his 
tea.  "It  was  merely  some  of  the  fellows, 
talkin'." 

"God  Almighty!"  cried  Mr.  Edward, 
springing  to  his  feet.  "Here's  a  precious 
outfit  of  pals  for  you!  You  come  down 
here,  so  help  me — " 

"Don't  say  'you';  say  'they,'  if  you've 
got  to  say  anything,"  interposed  the  major, 
quietly. 

"Well,  they,  then,"  the  other  went  on,  in 
loud  heat.  "They  come  down  here,  and 
take  my  mounts,  by  God;  they  drink  my 
wine,  they  win  my  money,  they  drain  me 
dry — and  then  they  go  behind  my  back  and 
whisper  to  one  another  that  I'm  an  out 
sider.  And  you  too,  Pirie,"  he  continued, 
with  defiance  and  deprecation  mingled  in  his 
tone,  "you  admit  yourself  that  you  talked 
with  them. ' ' 

"My  dear  Torr,"  replied  the  major,  "it's 
a  mistake  for  you  to  turn  out  so  early. 
You've  tried  to  quarrel  before  breakfast 
every  day  I've  been  here.  It's  the  worst 
morning  temper  I  ever  heard  of  in  my  life. 
You  ought  to  have  tea  and  eggs  and  things 
brought  to  you  in  your  room,  and  not  show 
52 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

yourself  for  at  least  two  hours  afterward— 
you  really  ought.  It  isn't  fair  to  your 
friends." 

The  door  opened  and  still  another  tall 
man  came  in.  He  nodded  to  Pirie  as  he 
passed  him,  with  a  tolerant  "Well,  major," 
and  went  straight  to  the  dishes  by  the  fire. 

"Pine's  got  it  into  his  head  we  oughtn't 
to  shoot  to-day,  Gus,"  said  Mr.  Edward. 

The  other  rose  with  a  dish  in  his  hands. 

"It  is  dark,"  he  assented,  glancing  toward 
the  window.  "Afraid  of  pottin'  a  beater, 
major?" 

"No— it's  about  the  duke,"  explained 
Edward.  "It  seems  some  of  the  fellows 
funk  the  thing— they  think  he'll  hear  the 
guns— they  want  to  go  to  church  instead,  or 
something  of  that  sort." 

Augustine  Torr,  M.P.,  looked  at  his 
brother  inquiringly.  The  tie  of  blood 
between  them  was  obvious  enough.  They 
were  both  slender  as  well  as  tall ;  their  small 
round  heads  merging  indistinguishably  be 
hind  into  flat,  broad  necks,  seemed  identical 
in  contour;  they  had  the  same  light  coarse 
hair,  the  same  florid  skins,  even  the  same 
little  yellow  mustaches.  The  differences 
were  harder  to  seek.  Edward,  though  he 
had  borne  Her  Majesty's  commission  for 
some  years,  was  not  so  well  set  up  about  the 

53 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

shoulders  as  his  younger  and  civilian  brother. 
Augustine,  on  the  other  hand,  despite  his 
confident  carriage  of  himself,  produced  the 
effect  of  being  Edward's  inferior  in  simple 
force  of  character.  It  was  at  once  to  his 
credit  and  his  disparagement  that  he  had  the 
more  amiable  nature  of  the  two. 

"How  do  you  mean — the  duke?"  he  asked. 
"Is  there  a  change?" 

Edward  put  out  his  closed  lips  a  little,  and 
shook  his  head.  Major  Pirie  sprinkled  salt 
on  his  muffin  while  he  explained. 

"All  there  is  of  it  is  this,"  he  said. 
"There  was  just  an  idea  that  with  the — 
with  your  grandfather — dyin'  in  the  house — 
it  might  look  a  little  better  to  give  the  first 
the  go-by.  Nobody'd  have  a  word  to  say 
against  shootin'  to-morrow." 

"Well,  but  what  the  hell"— Augustine 
groped  his  way  with  hesitancy — "I  don't 
understand — we've  been  shootin'  partridges 
for  a  month,  and  how  are  pheasants  any 
different?  And  as  for  the  duke — why,  of 
course  one's  sorry  and  all  that — but  he's 
been  dyin'  since  June,  and  the  birds  have 
some  rights — or  rather,  I  should  say — what 
I  mean  is — " 

"That's  what  I  said,"  put  in  Edward, 
to  cover  the  collapse  of  his  brother's  argu 
ment. 

54 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

Major  Pirie  frowned  a  little.  4 '  Partridges 
are  another  matter,"  he  said  testily. 

"Damned  if  I  know  what  you're  driving 
at,"  avowed  Augustine.  He  paused  with 
fork  in  air  at  his  own  words.  "Drivin'  at," 
he  repeated  painstakingly.  "Drivin'  at 
pheasants,  eh?  Not  bad,  you  know.  Pass 
the  mustard,  Pirie. " 

"God!"  said  the  major,  with  gloom. 
"You  know  well  enough  what  I  mean.  To 
work  through  fields  miles  off— that's  one 
thing.  To  shoot  the  covers  here  under  the 
duke's  nose,  with  the  beaters  messin'  about— 
that's  quite  another.  However  that's  your 
affair,  not  mine." 

"But  don't  you  see,"  urged  Augustine, 
"what  difference  does  a  day  make?  There'll 
be  just  as  much  racket  to-morrow  as  to-day. 
It  isn't  reasonable,  you  know." 

"It  was  merely  what  you  might  call  a 
sentiment,"  said  the  major,  in  the  half 
apologetic  tone  of  a  man  admitting  defeat. 
He  looked  the  least  sentimental  of  warriors 
as  he  went  on  with  his  breakfast — a  long- 
faced,  weather-beaten,  dull-eyed  man  of  the 
late  forties. 

Four  other  men  who  came  in  now  at  brief 
intervals,  with  few  or  no  words  of  salutation 
to  the  company,  and  who  lounged  about 
helping  themselves  to  what  caught  their 

55 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

fancy  in  the  breakfast,  were  equally  removed 
from  the  suspicion  of  adding  a  sentimental 
element  to  the  atmosphere.  They  made 
little  talk  of  any  kind,  and  no  mention  what 
ever  of  that  absurd  qualm  about  the  First 
which  had  been  reported  to  have  germinated 
among  them. 

Edward  had  reached  the  stage  of  filling  his 
pipe.  Walking  to  the  mantel  for  a  light,  it 
occurred  to  him  to  ring  the  bell  first.  "Her 
ladyship  breakfastin'  in  her  room?"  he  asked 
the  youngster  who  answered  the  summons. 

"Her  ladyship's  woman  has  just  gone  up 
with  it,  sir,"  he  replied. 

"That's  all  right,"  said  Edward,  and 
forthwith  struck  the  match.  "Send  in  Davis 
and  Morton  to  me,  and  ask  Barlow  for  those 
Brazilian  cigars  of  mine — the  small  huntin' 
ones.  What  wheels  were  those  I  heard  on 
the  gravel?  If  it's  the  traps  we  shan't  want 
them  to-day.  We're  walkin'  across." 

"I  will  make  inquiries,  sir,"  said  the 
domestic,  and  went  out. 

The  room  had  brightened  perceptibly,  and 
Captain  Edward  was  in  a  better  temper.  He 
moved  over  to  the  sideboard  and  filled  a 
pocket-flask  from  one  of  the  decanters  in  the 
old-fashioned  case.  As  an  afterthought,  he 
also  filled  a  small  glass,  and  gulped  its  con 
tents  neat.  "We're  off  in  ten  minutes 
C6 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

now,"  he  called  out  to  the  men  about  the 
table,  some  of  whom  had  already  lit  their 
pipes.  "What  do  you  fellows  want  to  take 
with  you?  My  tip  is  this  rum. " 

"Hardly  cold  enough  for  rum,  is  it?" 
asked  one,  drifting  languidly  toward  the 
sideboard.  Most  of  the  others  had  risen  to 
their  feet. 

A  slender,  sad-faced,  gentlemanly-looking 
old  man  in  evening  clothes  had  entered  the 
room,  and  stood  now  at  Captain  Edward's 
elbow  and  touched  it  with  his  hand, 
beg — your — pardon — sir,"  he  said,  in  the 
conventional  phrase. 

Edward,  listening  to  what  a  companion 
was  saying,  turned  absent-mindedly  to  the 
butler.  Then  he  happened  to  remember 
something.  "Damn  you,  Barlow,  you  get 
duller  every  day!"  he  snapped.  "You  know 
perfectly  well  what  cigars  I  take  out  of 
doors!" 

* '  I— beg— your— pardon— sir, ' '  repeated 
the  elderly  person.  He  spoke  in  a  confi 
dential  murmur.  ' 4 1  thought  you  would  like 
to  know,  sir — Lord  Julius  has  come." 

The  young  man  looked  at  him,  silently 
revolving  the  intelligence,  a  puzzled  frown 
between  his  pale  brows.  A  furtive  some 
thing  in  the  butler's  composed  expression 
struck  him.  "What  of  it?"  he  demanded, 

57 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

angrily.  "What  are  you  whispering  for? 
He's  old  enough  to  take  care  of  himself,  isn't 
he?" 

The  butler  thrust  out  his  dry  underlip  a 
trifle.  "I  thought  you  would  like  to  know, 
sir,"  he  reiterated. 

"Well,  you're  wrong.  I  don't  like  to 
know!"  The  man's  tone — an  indefinable, 
lurking  suggestiveness  in  his  face  and  eyes 
and  voice — vexed  Mr.  Edward  exceedingly. 
It  annoyed  him  still  more  to  note  that  his 
companions  had  tacitly  turned  their  backs, 
and  were  affecting  great  preoccupation  in 
something  else. 

He  kept  a  wrathful  eye  on  Barlow,  as  the 
latter  bowed,  turned,  moved  to  the  door  and 
opened  it.  Of  course,  a  man  musn't  slang 
servants,  his  irritated  thought  ran,  but  the 
covert  impertinence  in  this  old  menial's 
manner  was  something  no  longer  to  be 
borne.  The  impulse  to  call  the  elderly  fool 
back  and  send  him  packing  on  the  instant, 
tingled  hotly  in  the  young  man's  blood.  He 
even  opened  his  lips  to  speak,  but  reflection 
checked  his  tongue.  It  would  be  bad  form, 
for  one  thing;  for  another,  perhaps  he  was 
not  quite  in  the  position  to  dismiss  his  grand 
father's  servants.  He  would  speak  to  Well- 
don,  the  estate  steward,  instead — a  sensible 
and  civil  man,  by  the  way,  who  seemed  to 

53 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

know  which  side  his  bread  was  buttered  on. 
At  the  merest  hint  from  the  heir,  Welldon 
would  give  Barlow  the  sack,  and  that  would 
teach  the  rest  a  lesson.  But  all  this  would 
keep  until  Lord  Julius  hsftl  gone.  Being  an 
aged  duffer  himself,  he  would  probably  side 
with  Barlow — and  there  was  no  point  in 
offending  Lord  Julius.  Very  much  to  the 
contrary,  indeed. 

Mr.  Edward's  meditations,  unwontedly 
facile  in  their  movements  for  him,  had 
reached  this  point,  when  his  mind  reverted 
to  the  fact  that  he  was  still  regarding  the 
back  of  Barlow,  who,  instead  of  going  out, 
stood  holding  the  door  open,  his  lean  figure 
poised  in  ceremonious  expectancy.  Even 
as  the  surprised  Edward  continued  looking, 
the  butler  made  a  staid  obeisance. 

A  stalwart,  erect,  burly  old  gentleman 
came  in,  and  halted  just  over  the  threshold 
to  look  about  him.  He  had  the  carriage, 
dress  and  general  aspect  of  a  prosperous  and 
opinionated  farmer.  The  suggestion  of  acres 
and  crops  was  peculiarly  marked  in  the 
broad,  low  soft  hat  on  his  head,  and  in  the 
great  white  beard  which  spread  fan-wise 
over  his  ample  breast.  He  had  the  face  of 
one  who  had  spent  a  life  in  commanding 
others,  and  had  learned  meanwhile  to  master 
himself— a  frank,  high-featured,  ruddy  face, 
59 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

with  a  conspicuously  prominent  and  well- 
curved  nose,  and  steady,  confident  eyes.  He 
folded  his  hands  over  his  stick  and,  holding 
his  head  well  back,  glanced  about  the  room 
at  his  ease.  It  was  a  glance  from  which  the 
various  eyes  that  it  encountered  somehow 
turned  away. 

"How-do,  Eddy?  How-do,  Gus?"  the 
newcomer  said  impassively" to  the  two  young 
men  who,  with  palpable  constraint,  came  up 
to  greet  him.  He  shook  hands  with  each, 
but  seemed  more  interested  in  viewing  the 
company  at  large.  His  appearance  had  pro 
duced  a  visible  effect  of  numbness  upon  the 
group  of  guests,  but  he  seemed  not  to  mind 
this. 

"Quite  a  party!"  he  observed.  His  voice 
was  full  and  robust,  and  not  unamiable. 
"All  military?" 

Edward  nodded.  "All  but  Gus,  here. 
Glad  to  introduce  'em,  if  you  like,"  he 
murmured,  with  a  kind  of  sullen  deference. 

"Presently,  presently,"  said  Lord  Julius, 
with  an  effect  of  heartiness  at  which  Edward 
lifted  his  head. 

"Drive  over  from  Clune  this  morning?" 
the  young  man  asked.  "Then  you'll  want 
breakfast.  Ring  the  bell,  Gus.  We're  just 
starting  for  the  Mere  copse.  Glad  to  have 
you  make  an  eighth  gun,  if  you'll  come  to 
60 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

us  after  you've  eaten.  You  still  shoot,  don't 
you?" 

"Oh,  yes,  I  still  shoot,"  said  the  other. 

Edward  had  a  sense  of  embarrassment  at 
his  great-uncle's  immobility  in  the  doorway. 
"Well,  we'll  get  along  to  the  gun-room 
now/'  he  said  to  the  others.  Then  to  Lord 
Julius  he  remarked  with  an  air  of  making 
conversation,  "I  always  say  to  the  fellows 
that  I  ask  nothing  better  in  this  world  than 
to  be  as  fit  as  you  are  when  I'm  your  age. 
Let's  see,  seventy-six,  isn't  it?" 

The  elder  man  nodded.  "I'm  sure  that's 
a  modest  enough  ambition,"  he  observed. 
His  steady  gray  eyes  dallied  with  the  young 
man's  countenance  for  a  moment.  "I'm 
relieved  to  learn  that  you  want  nothing 
more  than  that. ' ' 

Edward  looked  up  swiftly,  and  braved  an 
instant's  piercing  scrutiny  of  the  other's 
face.  Then  he  laughed,  uneasily.  "Oh,  I 
want  a  few  other  things,  too." 

Lord  Julius  lowered  his  voice.  "I  would 
put  among  your  wants  a  trifling  matter 
of  good  taste,  Eddy, ' '  he  said,  not  un 
kindly. 

Captain  Edward  flushed.  "If  I  could  see 
that  it  really  made  any  difference  between 
the  First  and  the  Second,"  he  answered  with 
dogged  civility,  "I  wouldn't  shoot  until  to- 

61 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

morrow.     If    you're    keen    about    it    now, 
I'll—" 

"Oh,  damn  your  First  and  Second,"  broke 
in  the  old  man,  keeping  his  voice  down 
below  the  hearing  of  the  others,  but  letting 
impatience  glow  in  his  eyes;  "you  had  no 
business  bringing  these  men  here  at  all. 
No — I  see  that  you  don't  understand  me. 
You  needn't  explain.  It's  entirely  a  ques 
tion  of  feeling." 

"I'm  sorry  you  take  that  view  of  it,  sir," 
said  Edward,  gloomily.  "You  know  that  I'm 
willing  enough  to  meet  your  views — if  only — 
if  only  because  I'm  going  to  need  your  help. " 

Lord  Julius  gave  a  snort  of  contemptuous 
laughter,  and  nodded  to  himself  with  lifted 
brows.  "Really  something  in  the  way  of 
consideration  is  due  to  such  frankness  as 
that,"  he  said,  with  a  pretense  of  reverie. 
"Send  your  friends  out  of  the  room,  Eddy," 
he  went  on,  more  gently — "make  what 
excuse  you  like — or  take  them  out  and  come 
back  to  me — that's  better.  I  did  intend  to 
have  no  secrets  from  them,  but  I've  relented. 
And  yes — by  the  way— instead  of  coming 
here — you'll  find  me  in  the  small  morning 
room  I  will  breakfast  there.  You've  filled 
this  room  with  smoke. ' ' 

"Would  you — would  you  mind  my  bring 
ing  Gus?"     Edward  asked,  doubtfully. 
62 


GLORIA    MUNDI 

The  other  thought  for  an  instant.  "Oh, 
yes,  Gus  may  come,"  he  said,  and  with  that 
left  the  room. 

"Rum  old  beggar,  isn't  he?"  said  Augus 
tine  to  the  company,  with  the  sense  that 
something  had  to  be  said. 

"Gad!  he  seemed  to  think  he  was  in  a 
synagogue!"  laughed  Captain  Burlington. 
"Kept  his  hat  on,  you  know,"  he  explained 
in  the  next  breath  to  the  surprised  and 
attentive  faces  about  him. 

"But  he  isn't  a  Jew,"  said  one  of  the 
others  with  gravity.  "He  married  one,  but 
that  doesn't  make  him  one,  you  know." 

"It  was  a  joke!  Can't  you  see  a  joke?" 
protested  Burlington. 

"Well,  I  don't  think  much  of  it,"  growled 
Edward,  sourly.  "Come  along  to  the  gun 
room.  ' ' 

***** 

"What's  up?"  asked  Mr.  Augustine,  in  an 
anxious  murmur,  a  few  minutes  later,  as  the 
two  brothers  walked  along  the  wide  central 
hallway  toward  the  appointed  place. 

"Can't  think  for  the  life  of  me,"  replied 
Edward.  "Unless  Craven  babbled  about 
the  baccarat  when  he  got  up  to  town.  He's 
rather  that  sort,  you  know.  He  kicked  about 
the  stakes  at  the  time." 

tkVes — after  he'd  been  hit,"  said  Augus- 
63 


GLORIA    MUNDI 

tine.  "But  if  it's  only  that,  you'll  be  an  ass 
to  let  the  old  man  rot  you  about  it.  Just 
stand  up  to  him,  and  let  him  see  you  feel 
your  position. ' ' 

"That's  all  right,"  rejoined  Edward, 
dubiously,  "but  what's  the  position  without 
money?  If  anybody  could  have  foreseen 
what  was  going  to  happen — damn  it  all,  I 
could  have  married  as  much  as  I  needed. 
But  as  it  is,  I've  got  Cora  on  my  back,  and 
the  kid,  and — my  God!  fancy  doing  the  duke 
on  four  thou.  a  year  net !  Welldon  tells  me 
it  can't  be  screwed  a  bit  above  that.  Well, 
then,  how  can  I  afford  to  cheek  Julius? 
When  you  come  to  that  he  isn't  half  a  bad 
sort,  you  know.  He  stood  my  marriage 
awfully  well.  Gad,  you  know,  we  couldn't 
have  lived  if  he  hadn't  drawn  a  check." 

"Let  us  hope  he'll  draw  another,"  said 
Augustine.  '  *  It's  bad  enough  to  be  a  pauper 
duke,  but  it's  a  bailey  sight  worse  to  be  his 
brother." 

"What  rot!"  said  Edward.  "My  kid's  a 
girl,  and  you're  free  to  marry." 

They  had  come  to  the  door  of  the  morning 
room.  It  stood  ajar,  and  Edward  pushed  it 
open.  Before  the  fireplace  was  visible  the 
expected  bulk  and  vast  beard  of  Lord  Julius, 
but  the  eyes  of  the  brothers  intuitively  wan 
dered  to  the  window  beyond,  against  which 
64 


GLORIA    MUNDI 
was  outlined  the  figure  of  a  much  smaller 


man. 


Secretary, ' '  whispered  the  quicker- 
minded  Augustine  out  of  the  corner  of  his 
mouth  as  they  advanced.  The  thought 
brought  them  a  tempered  kind  of  comfort. 
The  same  instinct  which  had  prompted 
Edward  to  crave  his  brother's  support  led 
them  both  to  welcome  the  presence  of  a 
fourth  party. 

They  looked  again  toward  the  stranger, 
and  Lord  Julius,  as  he  caught  their  return 
ing  glance,  smiled  and  nodded  significantly. 
4 'Come  here,  Christian!"  he  said,  and  the 
brothers  saw  now  that  it  was  a  slender 
young  man  with  a  dark,  fine  face  and 
foreign-looking  eyes  who  moved  toward 
them. 

Lord  Julius  put  a  hand  on  the  young  man's 
shoulder.  "Christian,"  he  said,  and  gave 
his  full  voice  a  new  note  of  gravity,  "these 
are  your  two  cousins,  Mr.  Edward  Torr,  a 
captain  in  the  Hussars  until  recently,  and 
Mr.  Augustine  Torr,  a  member  of  Parlia 
ment.  Your  coming  will  make  some  differ 
ence  in  their  affairs,  but  I  know  that  you 
will  be  good  to  them." 

The  brothers  had  shaken  hands  with  the 
new-comer  automatically,  while  their  minds 
were  in  the  first  stage  of  wonderment  as  to 
65 


GLORIA    MUNDI 

what  the  words  being  spoken  about  him 
meant.  Now  that  silence  fell,  they  stared 
slowly  at  him,  at  their  great-uncle,  at  each 
other. 

"How — cousin?"  Edward  managed  to  ask. 
He  spoke  as  if  his  tongue  filled  his  mouth. 

"The  son  of  your  uncle,  Lord  Ambrose 
Torr,"  the  old  man  made  quiet,  carefully 
distinct  answer. 

Another  period  of  silence  ensued,  until 
Christian  turned  abruptly.  "It  is  very  pain 
ful  to  me,"  he  said  hurriedly  to  the  old  man, 
and  walked  to  the  window. 

"It  is  painful  to  everybody,"  said  Lord 
Julius. 

"Not  so  damned  particularly  painful  to 
you,  sir,  I  should  say, ' '  put  in  Edward,  look 
ing  his  great-uncle  in  the  face.  The  young 
man  had  slowly  pulled  himself  together, 
and  one  could  see  the  muscles  of  his  neck 
being  stiffened  to  keep  his  chin  well  in  the 
air.  His  blue  eyes  had  the  effect  of  sum 
moning  all  their  resources  of  pride  to  gaze 
with  dignity  into  the  muzzle  of  a  machine- 
gun. 

Augustine  was  less  secure  in  the  control 
of  his  nerves.  He  stood  a  little  behind  his 
brother,  and  the  elbow  which  he  braced 
against  him  for  support  trembled.  His  eyes 
wandered  about  the  room,  and  he  moistened 

66 


GLORIA    MUNDI 

his  lips  with  his  tongue  several  times  before 
he  contrived  to  whisper  something  into  Ed 
ward's  ear.  The  latter  received  the  sug 
gestion,  whatever  it  was,  with  an  impatient 
shake  of  the  head. 

"You  scarcely  do  me  justice,"  said  Lord 
Julius,  quietly,  "but  that's  not  worth  men 
tioning  at  the  moment.  I  must  say  you  are 
taking  it  very  well — much  better  than  I 
expected." 

Edward  squared  his  shoulders  still  more. 
"I  wouldn't  say  that  we're  takin'  it  at  all," 
he  replied,  with  studied  deliberation.  "You 
offer  it,  d'ye  see — but  it  doesn't  follow  that 
we  take  it.  You  come  and  bring  this  young 
fellow — this  young  gentleman,  and  you  tell 
me  that  he  is  Ambrose's  son.  What  good 
is  that  to  me?  Maybe  he  is,  maybe  he 
isn't.  Ambrose  may  have  had  twenty  sons, 
for  all  I  know.  I  should  be  sorry  to  be  one 
of  them — but  they're  not  to  blame  for  that. 
I  don't  mind  being  civil  to  them — if  they 
come  to  me  in  the  right  spirit — "  He 
stopped  abruptly,  and  listened  with  a  frown 
to  more  whispering  from  Augustine. 

"You  don't  seem  to  understand,  Eddy — " 
began  Lord  Julius. 

"Oh,  perfectly!"  broke  in  the  young  man. 
"I   had  an  uncle  who  had  to  leave  England 
before  I  was  born.     His  name  couldn't  even 
67 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

be  mentioned  in  the  family — but  I  know  all 
about  him.  God  knows  I've  had  him  flung 
in  my  face  often  enough." 

"Don't  let  us  go  into  that,"  urged  Lord 
Julius,  softly,  and  with  a  sidelong  nod 
toward  the  window.  "It's  needless  cruelty 
to  other  people — and  surely  we  can  discuss 
this  like  gentlemen.  You  are  really  behav 
ing  splendidly,  Eddy." 

"God!  he  thought  we  were  cads!"  cried 
Edward,  in  husky  indignation. 

"No — no — no — no,"  murmured  the  older 
man,  soothingly.  "I  only  want  you  to  grasp 
the  thing  as  it  is.  You  know  me.  You  do 
not  regard  me  as  a  foolish  person  who  goes 
off  half-cock.  Well,  I  tell  you  that  Christian 
here  is  the  son  of  my  nephew  Ambrose,  born 
in  lawful  wedlock,  and  that  there  is  not  a 
shadow  of  doubt  about  it.  The  proofs  arc 
all  open  to  your  inspection;  there  is  not  a 
flaw  in  them.  And  so  I  say  to  you,  in  all 
kindness — take  it  calmly  and  sensibly  and 
like  a  gentleman.  It  is  to  your  own  interest 
to  do  so,  as  well.  If  you  think,  you  will  see 
that." 

"That's  what  I've  been  telling  him,"  said 
Augustine,  strenuously,  from  behind  his 
brother's  shoulder. 

A  faint  smile  fluttered  about  the  old  man's 
eyelids.  ' '  It  was  the  advice  of  a  born  states- 

68 


GLORIA    MUNDI 

man, ' '  he  said,  dryly.  "You  are  the  political 
hope  of  the  family. " 

The  stiffening-  had  melted  from  Edward's 
neck  and  shoulders.  He  turned  irresolutely 
now,  and  looked  at  the  floor.  "Of  course  I 
admit  nothing;  I  reserve  all  my  rights,  till 
my  lawyers  have  satisfied  themselves,"  he 
said  in  a  worn,  depressed  mutter. 

"Why,  naturally, "  responded  Lord  Julius, 
with  relieved  cordiality.  "And  now  please 
me — do  it  all  handsomely  to  the  end — come 
and  shake  hands  again  with  Christian,  both 
of  you. ' ' 

The  brothers  stood  for  a  hesitating-  instant, 
then  turned  toward  the  window  and  begun 
a  movement  of  reluctant  assent. 

To  the  surprise  of  all  three,  Christian 
forestalled  their  approach  by  wrenching 
open  one  half  of  the  tall  window,  and  put 
ting  a  foot  over  the  sill  to  the  lawn  outside. 

"If  you  will  excuse  me,"  he  said,  in  his 
nervous,  high  voice,  "I  am  taking  a  little 
walk." 


CHAPTER    IV 

Upon  the  garden  side  of  Caermere  is  a 
very  large  conservatory,  built  nearly  fifty 
years  ago,  at  the  close  of  the  life  of  the  last 
duchess.  The  poor  lady  left  no  other  mark 
of  her  meek  existence  upon  the  buildings, 
and  it  was  thought  at  the  time  that  she  would 
never  have  ventured  upon  even  this,  had  it 
not  been  that  every  one  was  mad  for  the 
moment  about  the  wonderful  palace  of  glass 
reared  in  London  for  the  First  Exhibition. 

In  area  and  height,   and  in  the  spacious 
pretensions  of  its  dome,   the  structure  still 
suggests  irresistibly  the  period  of  its  incep 
tion.     It  is  as  ambitious  as   it   is   self-con 
scious;    its    shining    respectability    remains 
superior  to  all  the  wiles    of    climbers  and 
creeping  vines.     The  older  servants  cherish 
traditions  of  "Her  Grace's  glass/'  as  it  used 
to  be  called.     She  had  the  work  begun  on  her 
fortieth  birthday,  and  precisely  a  year  later 
it  happened  that  she  was  wheeled  in  from 
the  big  morning  room,  and  left  at  her  own 
desire  to  recline  in  solitude  under  the  palms 
beneath  the  dome,  and  that  when  they  went 
71 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

to  her  at  last  she  was  dead.     The  circum 
stance  that  Shakespeare  is  supposed  also  to 
have  died  on  the  anniversary  of  his  birth, 
has  somehow  come  to  be  an  integral  part  of 
the  story,   as   it   is  kept   alive   now   in   the 
humbler  parts  of  the  Caermere  household, 
but  the  duchess  had  nothing  else  in  common 
with  the  poet.     The  very  face  of  her,  in  her 
maturer  years,   is  but  dimly  remembered. 
The   portrait  in    the  library  is  of  a  young 
Lady  Clarissa,  with  pale  ringlets  and  a  child 
ishly  sweet   countenance,    and   clad   in   the 
formal  quaintness  of  the  last  year  of  King 
George  the  Fourth.     She  became  the  duch 
ess,    but    in    turn    the   duchess   seemed   to 
become  somebody  else.     That  was  the  way 
with  the  brides  brought  home  to  Caermere. 
The  pictures  in   the  library  show  them  all 
girlish,  and  innocently  pretty,   and  for  the 
most  part  fair-haired.     Happily  there  is  no 
painted  record  of  what  they  were  like  when, 
still  in  middle  life,   they  bade  a  last  good 
bye  to  the  dark-skinned,  big-shouldered  sons 
they  had  borne,  and  perhaps  made  a  little 
moan  that  no  daughters  were  ever  given  to 
mothers  at  Caermere,  and  turned  their  sad 
faces  to  the  wall. 

The  crystal  house  had  memories  of  another 
and    more    recent   mistress,    the    countess. 
She  had  come  six  years  after  the  other  went, 
72 


GLORIA    MUND1 

she  had  lived  for  twelve  years — a  silent, 
colorless,  gently  unhappy  life — and  then  had 
faded  away  out  of  sight.  It  was  this  Lady 
Porlock  who  had  caused  the  orchid  houses 
to  be  built  at  the  inner  side  of  the  conserva 
tory,  and  it  was  in  her  time,  too,  that  the 
gifted  Cheltnam  was  fetched  from  her  own 
father's  house  in  Berkshire  to  be  head 
gardener  at  Caermere.  Her  fame  is  in 
deed  irrevocably  linked  with  his,  for  the 
tea-rose  of  his  breeding,  bearing  her  maiden- 
name  of  the  Hon.  Florence  Benson,  is 
scarcely  less  well  known  than  this  hybrid 
sweet-briar  the  Countess  of  Porlock. 

And  now,  in  the  third  generation,  still 
another  lady  had  for  some  years  enjoyed 
special  property  rights  in  this  great  glass 
apartment. 

Lady  Cressage  came  into  the  conservatory 
'from~the-  large  morning  room,  with  a  large 
volume  in  her  hand,  and  an  irresolute  look 
on  her  face.  She  glanced  about  at  the 
several  couches  piled  with  cushions  and 
furs,  at  an  easy-chair  beyond — and  yawned 
slightly.  Then  she  wandered  over  to  a 
row  of  early  chrysanthemums,  and,  put 
ting  the  book  under  her  arm,  occupied  herself 
with  the  destruction  of  a  few  tiny  beginnings 
of  buds  in  the  lower  foliage.  In  this  she 
employed  as  pincers  the  delicately  tinted 

73 


GLORIA    MUNDI 

nails  of  a  very  shapely  finger  and  thumb,  and 
at  the  sign  of  some  slight  discoloration  of 
these  she  stopped  the  work.  From  a  glance 
at  the  nails,  she  went  to  a  musing  scrutiny 
of  this  whole  right  hand  of  hers,  holding  it 
up,  and  turning  it  from  one  composition  of 
graceful  curves  to  another.  It  had  been 
called  the  most  beautiful  hand  in  England, 
but  this  morning  its  owner,  upon  a  brief 
and  rather  listless  inspection  of  its  charms, 
yawned  again.  Finally  she  seated  herself 
in  the  chair  and,  after  a  languid  search  for 
the  place  in  her  book,  began  to  read 

Half  reclining  thus,  with  the  equable  and 
shadowless  light  of  the  glass  house  about 
her,  the  young  widow  made  a  picture 
curiously  different  from  any  in  the  library 
within.  All  the  dead  and  gone  brides  of 
the  Torrs  had  been  painted  in  bright  attire ; 
Lady  Cressage  wore  a  belted  gown  of  black 
cloth,  unrelieved  save  by  a  softened  line  of 
white  at  the  throat  and  wrists.  The  others, 
without  exception,  had  signified  by  elaborate 
hair-dressing  not  less  than  by  dutifully 
vacuous  facial  expressions,  their  compre 
hension  of  the  requirements  of  the  place 
they  had  been  called  upon  to  fill;  Lady 
Cressage 's  bistre  hair  was  gathered  in  care 
less  fashion  to  a  loose  knot  at  the  back  of  the 
head,  and  in  her  exquisitely  modeled  face 

74 


GLORIA    MUNDI 

there  was  no  hint  whatever  of  docility  or 
awed  submission  to  any  external  claims. 
The  profile  of  this  countenance,  outlined  for 
the  moment  against  a  cluster  of  vividly  pur 
ple  pleroma  blossoms,  had  the  delicacy  of  a 
rare  flower,  but  it  conveyed  also  the  impres 
sion  of  resolute  and  enduring-  force.  If  the 
dome  above  could  have  generated  voices  of 
its  own,  these  would  have  murmured  to  one 
another  that  here  at  last  was  a  woman  whom 
Caermere  could  not  break  or  even  easily 
bend. 

In  the  season  of  1892,  London  had  heard  a 
good  deal  of  this  lady.  She  was  unknown 
before,  and  of  her  belongings  people  to  this 
day  knew  and  cared  very  little.  There  was 
a  General  Kervick  enumerated  in  the  retired 
list,  who  had  vegetated  into  promotion  in 
some  obscure  corner  of  India,  and  now  led 
an  equally  inconspicuous  existence  some 
where  in  the  suburbs — or  was  it  in  West 
Kensington?  He  had  never  belonged  to  a 
service  club,  but  an  occasional  man  encoun 
tered  him  once  in  a  while  at  the  Oriental, 
where  he  was  supposed  by  the  waiters  to 
have  an  exceptional  knowledge  of  peppers 
and  chutneys.  The  name  of  his  wife  had 
been  vaguely  associated  with  charitable  com 
mittees,  or  subscription  committees,  and 
here  and  there  some  one  remembered  having 

75 


GLORIA    MUNDI 

heard  that  she  was  distantly  related  to  some 
body.  The  elder  Kervicks  never  secured  a 
much  more  definite  place  in  London's 
regard — even  after  this  remarkable  daughter 
had  risen  like  a  planet  to  dim  the  fixed  stars 
of  the  season. 

The  credit  for  having  discovered  and 
launched  Miss  Kervick  came  generally  to  be 
ascribed  to  Lady  Selton,  but  perhaps  this 
turned  upon  the  fact  that  she  lent  her  house 
in  Park  Lane  for  the  culminating  scene  in  the 
spectacular  triumph  of  that  young  person. 
No  doubt  there  were  others  who  would  have 
placed  still  bigger  houses  at  the  disposal  of 
a  bride  whose  wedding  was,  in  many  respects, 
the  most  interesting  of  the  year,  and  some  of 
these  may  have  had  as  good  a  claim  to  the 
privilege  as  Lady  Selton.  As  matters  turned 
out,  however,  they  were  given  no  cause  to 
repine.  The  marriage  was  not  a  success, 
and  within  one  short  year  Lady  Selton  her 
self  had  grown  a  little  shy  about  assuming 
responsibility  for  it.  A  year  later  she  was 
quite  prepared  to  repudiate  all  share  in  it, 
and  after  that  people  ceased  to  remember 
about  it  all,  until  the  shock  of  the  tragedy 
came  to  stir  polite  London  into  startled 
whisperings. 

Hardly  within  the  memory  of  living  folk 
had  a  family  been  dealt  such  a   swift   suc- 
76 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

cession  of  deadly  blows  as  these  which  were 
rained  upon  the  Torrs  in  the  first  half  of 
1896. 

The  Earl  of  Porlock  had  been  the  heir  of 
dukedom  since  most  people  could  remember, 
and  had  got  himself  called  to  the  House  of 
Lords  in  his  own  right,  apparently  as  a  kind 
of  protest   against  his  father's  unconscion 
able  longevity,  at  least  a  dozen  years  before 
his  own  end  came.     It  was  not  to  be  supposed 
that    he   desired   a   peerage   for   any  other 
reason,  since  he  had  never  chosen  to  seek  a 
seat  in  the  House  of  Commons,  and  indeed, 
save    upon    one     occasion    connected    with 
ground  game,  made  no  use  whatever  of  his 
legislative  powers  after  they  had  been  given 
to  him.     He  cared  nothing  for  politics,  and 
read  scarcely  more  in  newspapers  than  in 
books.     Up  to  middle  life,  he  had  displayed 
a  certain   tendency   toward   interest   in   fat 
stock  and  a  limited  number  of  allied  agricul 
tural   topics,    but    the    decline    in   farming 
values  had  turned   him   from   this.      In  his 
earlier   years,    too,    he   had   enjoyed   being 
identified  with  the  sporting  set  of  his  class 
in  London,  and  about  the  racing  circuit,  but 
this  association  he  also  dropped  out  of  as  he 
grew  older,  partly  because  late  nights  bored 
him,  partly  because  he  could  no  longer  afford 
to  jeopardize  any  portion  of  his  income.     He 

77 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

came  at  last  to  think  of  his  mastership  of 
hounds  as  his  principal  tie  to  existence  on 
land.  He  liked  it  all,  from  the  sailing  sweep 
over  the  highest  barrier  in  an  exceptionally 
rough  country,  to  the  smell  of  the  kennels 
of  an  early  morning  across  the  frozen  yards. 
This  life  with  the  horses  and  dogs,  and  with 
the  people  who  belonged  to  the  horses  and 
dogs,  offered  fewer  temptations  to  the  evil 
temper  in  his  blood  than  any  other,  and 
with  growing  years  his  dislike  for  the  wear 
and  tear  of  getting  angry  had  become  a  con 
trolling  instinct.  He  continued  to  use  bad 
language  with  an  appropriate  show  of  fer 
vency,  when  occasion  required,  but  he  had 
got  out  of  the  way  of  scalding  himself  with 
rage  inside.  He  even  achieved  a  grim  sort 
of  jocularity  toward  the  close.  In  the  last 
year  of  his  life  a  tenant-farmer,  speaking  to 
a  toast,  affirmed  of  him  that  "a  truer  sports 
man,  nor  yet  a  more  humorous  and  affable 
nobleman,  has  never  taken  the  chair  at  a 
puppy-walk  luncheon  within  my  recollec 
tion,"  and  this  tribute  to  his  geniality  both 
pleased  and  impressed  the  earl.  He  was  then 
in  his  sixty-second  year,  and  he  might  have 
lived  into  a  mellowed,  and  even  jovial  old 
age,  under  the  influence  of  this  praise,  had 
there  been  no  unwritten  law  ending  the 
hunting  season  in  the  early  spring. 
73 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

The  earl  cared  very  little  for  otters  and 
rats,  and  almost  nothing  at  all  for  salmon, 
so  that  when  April  came  he  •usually  went  to 
his  yacht,  and  practically  lived  aboard  it 
until  November.  Sometimes  he  made  long 
cruises  in  this  substantial  and  comfortable 
vessel,  which  he  delighted  in  navigating 
himself.  He  was  lying  in  at  Bremerhaven,  for 
example,  in  May,  when  one  of  a  sheaf  of 
telegrams  scattered  along  the  line  of  North 
Sea  ports  in  search  of  him,  brought  the  news 
that  his  youngest  son  Joseph,  who  had  drifted 
into  Mashonaland  after  the  collapse  of  the 
Jameson  adventure,  had  been  killed  in  the 
native  rebellion.  Upon  consideration,  the 
earl  could  not  see  that  a  post-haste  return  to 
England  would  serve  any  useful  end.  He 
sailed  westward,  however,  after  some  tele 
graphic  communication  with  England,  and 
made  his  leisurely  way  down  the  Channel 
and  round  Cornwall  to  Milford  Haven, 
where  his  wont  was  to  winter  his  yacht,  and 
where  most  of  his  crew  were  at  home.  The 
fact  that  he  and  the  vessel  were  well  known 
in  this  port  rendered  it  possible  to  follow  in 
detail  subsequent  events. 

It  was  on  the  loth  of  June  that  Lord  Por- 

lock  came  to  anchor  in  Milford,  and   went 

ashore,    taking     the     afternoon     train     for 

Shrewsbury.     He    returned    on    the     i4th, 

79 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

accompanied  by  his  eldest  son  and  heir,  Lord 
Cressage.  This  latter  personage  was  known 
only  from  hearsay  at  Milford,  and  local 
observation  of  him  was  therefore  stimulated 
by  a  virgin  curiosity.  It  was  noted  that  Vis 
count  Cressage — a  stalwart  and  rubicund 
young  man  of  more  than  his  father's  height, 
but  somewhat  less  swarthy  of  aspect — was 
laboring  under  very  marked  depression. 
He  hung  about  the  hotel,  during  the  delay 
incident  upon  cleaning  up  the  yacht,  taking 
on  new  stores  and  altering  some  of  the  sail 
ing  gear,  in  a  plainly  moping  mood,  saying 
little  to  his  father  and  never  a  word  to  any 
one  else.  A  number  of  witnesses  were  able 
to  make  it  clear  that  at  first  he  did  not  intend 
to  sail  forth,  but  was  merely  bearing  his 
father  company  while  the  latter  remained  in 
harbor. 

The  fact  of  their  recent  bereavement 
accounted  in  a  general  way  for  their 
reticence  with  each  other,  but  it  was  impos 
sible  not  to  see  that  the  younger  man  had 
something  besides  the  death  of  a  brother  on 
his  mind.  When,  on  the  second  day  of 
their  waiting,  the  tide  began  to  fill  in  which 
on  its  turn  was  to  bear  out  the  yacht,  his 
nervous  preoccupation  grew  painfully  man 
ifest.  He  walked  across  many  times  to  the 
headland ;  he  fidgeted  in  and  out  of  the  bar, 
So 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

taking  drinks  for  which  he  obviously  had  no 
relish,  and  looking  over  and  over  again  in  the 
railway  time-tables  for  information  which  he 
seemed  incapable  of  fixing  in  his  memory. 
At  last,  when  everything  was  ready,  and  the 
earl  stood  with  his  hand  out  to  say  good-bye 
to  his  son,  the  latter  had  suddenly,  and  upon 
the  evident  impulse  of  the  moment,  declared 
with  some  excitement  that  he  also  would  go. 
People  remembered  that  he  had  said,  as  if 
in  defensive  explanation  of  his  hasty  resolve: 
"Perhaps  that  will  teach  her  a  lesson!"  His 
father  had  only  remarked  "Rot!" — and  with 
that  the  yacht  sailed  off,  a  heaving  white 
patch  against  the  blackening  west. 

But  what  followed  was  too  grossly  un- 
reasoning  to  afford  a  lesson  to  anybody. 
The  morning  newspapers  of  the  i8th  con 
tained  in  one  column  confirmation  of  the 
earlier  report  that  the  Hon.  Anselm  Torr, 
second  son  of  the  earl  of  Porlock,  had  been 
a  passenger  on  the  ill-fated  "Drummond 
Castle,"  and  had  gone  down  with  the  rest 
in  the  night  off  Ushant;  and  in  another 
column  a  telegram  from  Porthstinian, 
announcing  the  total  loss  of  a  large  yacht, 
on  the  rocks  known  as  the  Bishop  and  Clerks, 
with  all  on  board.  The  evening  papers  fol 
lowed  with  the  rumor  that  the  lost  yacht 
was  the  "Minstrel,"  with  both  Lord  Porlock 
81 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

and  his  son,  Lord  Cressage,  on  board;  but 
it  was  not  until  the  next  afternoon  that  the 
public  possessed  all  the  facts  in  this  extra 
ordinary  affair.  Then  it  happened  that  the 
edge  was  rather  taken  off  the  horror  of  the 
tragic  coincidence,  by  the  announcement 
that  these  sudden  deaths  brought  forward  as 
next  heir  to  the  dukedom  Captain  Edward 
Torr,  late  of  the  — th  Hussars,  who  was 
better  known,  perhaps,  as  the  husband  of 
Miss  Cora  Bayard.  The  thought  of  Cora  as 
a  prospective  duchess  made  such  a  direct 
appeal  to  the  gayer  side  of  the  popular  mind, 
that  the  gruesome  terrors  surrounding  her 
advancement  were  lost  to  sight.  When,  a 
few  days  later,  it  was  stated  that  the  vener 
able  Duke  of  Glastonbury  had  suffered  a 
stroke  of  paralysis,  and  lay  at  Caermere  in  a 
critical  state,  the  news  only  made  more 
vivid  the  picture  of  the  music-hall  dancer 
turned  into  Her  Grace  which  the  public  had 
in  its  mind's  eye.  Her  radiant  portrait  in 
the  photographic  weeklies  and  budgets  was 
what  remained  uppermost  in  the  general 
memory. 

For  a  time,  however,  in  that  little  fraction 
of  the  public  which  is  called  Society,  the 
figure  of  another  woman  concentrated  inter 
est  upon  itself,  in  connection  with  the  Torr 
tragedy.  The  fact  that  a  music-hall  person 
82 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

was  to  wear  a  great  title  had  no  permanent 
hold    upon   the    imagination   of   this   class. 
They  would  probably  see  rather  less  of  her 
then  than  now — and  the  thing  had  no  longer 
the  charm  of  the  unusual.     But  they  had 
known  Lady  Cressage.     They  had  admired 
her,  followed  after  her,  done  all  sorts  of  nice 
things  for  her,  in  that  season  of  her  wonder 
ful  triumph  as  the  most  beautiful  girl,  and 
the  most  envied  bride,  in  London.      After 
her   marriage   she   had    been  very  little  in 
evidence,  it  was  true;  one  hardly  knew  of 
any  other  reigning  beauty  who  had  let  the 
sceptre  slip  through  her  fingers  so  promptly 
and  completely.     What  was  the  secret  of  it 
all?     It  could  not  be  said  that  she  had  lost 
her  good  looks,  or  that  she   was  lacking  in 
cleverness.     There  was  no  tangible  scandal 
against  her;    to  the   contrary,   she    seemed 
rather  surprisingly  indifferent  to  men's  com 
pany.      Of   course,   it  was  understood  that 
her  marriage  was  unhappy,    but   that   was 
scarcely  a  reason  for  allowing  herself  to  be 
so  wholly  snuffed  out  of  social  importance. 
Everybody  knew  what  the  Torrs  were  like  as 
husbands,  and  everybody  would  have  been 
glad  to  be  good  to  her.     But  in  some  unac 
countable  way,  without  quite  producing  the 
effect  of  rebuffing  kindness,    she    had   con 
trived  to  lapse  from  the  place  prepared  for 
83 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

her.  And  now  those  last  words  from  the 
lips  of  poor  young  Cressage — "Perhaps  that 
will  teach  her  a  lesson!" — sifted  their  way 
from  the  coroner's  inquest  in  a  Welsh  vil 
lage  up  to  London,  and  set  people  thinking 
once  more.  Who  could  tell?  It  might  be 
that  the  fault  was  not  all  on  one  side. 
According  to  the  accounts  of  Milford,  he  was 
in  a  state  of  visible  excitement  and  mental 
distress.  The  very  fact  of  his  going  off 
alone  in  a  yacht  with  his  father,  of  whom  he 
notoriously  saw  as  little  as  possible  on  dry 
land,  showed  that  he  must  have  been  greatly 
upset.  And  his  words  could  mean  nothing 
save  that  it  was  a  quarrel  with  his  wife  which 
had  sent  him  off  to  what  proved  to  be  his 
death.  What  was  this  quarrel  about?  And 
was  it  the  woman,  after  all,  who  was  to 
blame?  Echoes  of  these  questions,  and  of 
their  speculative  and  varied  answers,  kept 
themselves  alive  here  and  there  in  London 
till  Parliament  rose  in  August.  They  were 
lost  then  in  the  general  flutter  toward  the 
moors. 

Lady  Cressage,  meantime,  had  not  quitted 
Caermere  or  disclosed  any  design  of  doing 
so,  and  it  is  there  we  return  to  her,  where 
she  sat  at  her  ease  under  the  palms  in  the 
glass-house,  with  a  book  open  before  her. 

The  spattering  reports  of    a    number  of 
84 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

guns,  not  very  far  away,  caused  her  presently 
to  lift  her  head,  but  after  an  instant,  with  a 
fleeting  frown,  she  went  back  to  her  book. 
The  racket  continued,  and  finally  she  closed 
the  volume,  listened  with  a  vexed  face  for  a 
minute  or  two  and  then  sprang  to  her  feet. 

"Positively  this  is  too  bad!"  she  declared 
aloud,  to  herself. 

Unexpectedly,  as  she  turned,  she  found 
confronting  her  another  young  woman,  also 
clad  in  black,  even  to  the  point  of  long 
gloves,  and  a  broad  hat  heavy  with  funereal 
plumes.  In  her  hand  she  held  some  unopened 
letters,  and  on  her  round,  smooth,  pretty 
countenance  there  was  a  doubtful  look. 

"Good-mornin',  dear,"  said  this  new 
comer.  Her  voice,  not  unmusical  in  tone, 
carried  the  suggestion  of  being  produced 
with  sedulous  regard  to  a  system.  "There 
were  no  letters  for  you. " 

There  was  a  momentary  pause,  and  then 
Lady  Cressage,  as  if  upon  deliberation, 
answered,  "Good-morning  —  Cora."  She 
turned  away  listlessly  as  she  spoke. 

"Ah,  so  it  is  one  of  my  'Cora'  days,  after 
all,"  said  the  other,  with  a  long  breath  of 
ostentatious  reassurance.  "I  never  know  in 
the  least  where  to  have  you,  my  dear,  you 
know — and  particularly  this  mornin' ;  I  made 
sure  you'd  blame  me  for  the  guns." 
85 


GLORIA    MUNDI 

"Blame" — commented  Lady  Cressage, 
musingly — "I  no  longer  blame  anybody  for 
anything.  I've  long  since  done  with  my 
fancy  for  playing  at  being  God,  and  dis 
tributing  judgments  about  among  people." 

"Oh,  you're  quite  right  about  this  shootin' 
the  home  covers, "  protested  the  other.  "I 
gave  Eddy  a  fair  bit  of  my  mind  about  it — 
but  you  know  what  he  is,  when  once  he's 
headed  in  a  given  direction.  You  might  as 
well  talk  soft  to  the  east  wind.  And,  for 
that  matter,  I  was  dead  against  his  bringin' 
these  men  down  here  at  all — though  it  may 
surprise  you  to  hear  it. ' ' 

Lady  Cressage,  still  looking  away,  shook 
her  head  very  slightly.  "No — I  don't  find 
myself  particularly  surprised,"  she  said, 
with  an  effect  of  languor.  "Really,  I  can't 
be  said  to  have  given  the  matter  a  thought, 
one  way  or  the  other.  It  is  neither  my 
business  nor  my  wish  to  form  opinions  about 
your  husband's  friends.  We  were  speaking 
of  something  else,  were  we  not?" 

"Why,  yes,"  responded  Mrs.  Edward;  "I 
mentioned  that  sometimes  I'm  'Cora,'  and 
sometimes  it's  very  much  the  other  way 
about.  I  merely  mentioned  it — don't  think  I 
mean  to  complain — only  I  began  calling  you 
Edith  from  the  start — from  the  first  day  I 
came  here,  after  the — after  the — " 

86 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

"I  know  you  did.  It  was  very  kind  of 
you, ' '  murmured  Edith,  but  with  no  affecta 
tion  of  gratitude  in  her  voice.  Then,  slowly, 
she  turned  her  eyes  toward  her  companion, 
and  added  in  a  more  considerate  tone:  "But 
then  you  are  by  nature  a  much  kindlier 
person  than  I  am." 

"Oh,  yes,  you  say  that,"  put  in  the  other, 
"but  it  isn't  true,  you  know.  It's  only  that 
I've  seen  more  of  the  world,  and  am  so  much 
older  than  you  are.  That's  what  tells,  my 
dear — it's  years  that  smooths  the  temper 
down,  and  rubs  off  one's  sharp  corners — of 
course,  if  one  has  some  sense  to  start  with. 
I  assure  you,  Edith,  that  when  I  was  your 
age  I  was  a  perfect  tiger-cat. ' ' 

Lady  Cressage  smiled  in  a  wan  fashion,  as 
if  in  despite  of  her  mood.  "You  always 
make  such  a  point  of  your  seniority,"  she 
said,  not  unamiably,  "but  when  I  look  at  you, 
I  can  never  believe  you're  of  any  age  at  all. 
I  seem  a  thousand  years  old  beside  you. ' ' 

Mrs.  Edward  showed  some  dazzling  teeth 
in  her  pleased  appreciation  of  the  compli 
ment.  Her  smile  was  as  characteristic  as 
her  voice,  in  its  studiously  regular  and 
equable  distribution.  The  even  parting  of 
her  bright  lips,  with  their  symmetrical  inner 
lines  of  white,  was  supported  to  a  nicety  of 
proportional  value  by  eyelashes  and  eyes. 
87 


GLORIA  MUNDI 

"It's  what  I've  been  saying,"  she  com 
mented,  with  frank  enjoyment.  "It's  good 
temper  that  does  the  trick." 

To  tell  the  truth,  Mrs.  Edward's  was  a 
face  which  bore  no  visible  relation  to  years. 
It  was  of  rounded  oval  in  contour,  with 
beautifully  chiseled  small  features,  a  fault 
less  skin  which  was  neither  fair  nor  dark 
and  fine  large  eyes  that  seemed  sometimes 
blue,  and  as  often  something  else.  In  these 
eyes  there  lay  always,  within  touch  of  the 
surface,  a  latent  smile,  ready  to  beam,  to 
sparkle,  to  dance,  to  languish  in  mellow 
softness  or  glitter  in  cool  abstract  recognition 
of  pleasantries  afloat,  all  at  the  instant  bid 
ding  of  the  lips  below.  These  lips,  delicately 
arched  and  of  vivid  warmth  of  color,  were 
as  restricted  in  their  movements  as  is  the 
mercury  in  a  thermometer.  They  did  not 
curl  sidewise  upon  occasion;  they  never 
pouted,  or  pulled  themselves  inward  together 
under  the  stress  of  sudden  emotion.  They 
did  nothing  but  separate,  in  perfectly  bal 
anced  measure,  sometimes  by  only  a  hair's 
breadth,  again  in  the  freest  fashion,  but 
always  in  painstaking  harmony  with  the 
spirit  of  the  glance  above.  Students  of  this 
smile,  or  rather  of  this  range  of  graded 
smiles,  ordinarily  reached  the  conclusion 
that  it  was  the  lips  which  gave  the  signal  to 

88 


GLORIA  MUNDI 

the  eyes.  Certain  it  is  that  they  worked 
together  in  trained  accord,  and  that  the  rest 
of  the  face  did  nothing  at  all.  The  white 
forehead  furrowed  itself  with  no  lines  of 
puzzled  thought ;  there  was  not  the  shadow 
of  a  wrinkle  at  the  corners  of  the  little 
mouth,  or  about  the  shapely  brown  lashes — 
and  it  seemed  incredible  that  time  should 
ever  bring  one. 

Beside  this  serene  and  lovely  mask — in  the 
placidity  of  which  one  found  the  pledge  of 
an  easy  temper  along  with  the  promise  of 
unfailing  youth — the  face  of  Lady  Cressage 
was  still  beautiful,  but  in  a  restless  and 
strenuous  way.  If  she  did  produce  the  effect 
of  being  the  older  of  the  two,  it  was  because 
Mrs.  Edward's  countenance  had  nothing  to 
do  with  any  such  standard  of  comparison. 

''When  you  come  to  think  of  it,"  the 
latter  went  on  now,  "you  do  seem  older  than 
I  do,  dear — I  mean  you  seem  so  to  me.  Of 
course  I  know  there's  a  good  six  years' 
difference  between  us — and  as  far  as  appear 
ance  goes,  I  needn't  say  that  you'd  be  the 
belle  of  the  ball  in  London  as  easily  as  you 
were  four  years  ago — but  all  the  same  you 
have  the  knack  of  making  me  feel  as  if  I 
were  the  youngster,  and  you  the  grown-up. 
I've  a  sister — five  years  younger  than  me — 
and  she  does  the  same  thing.  When  she 
89 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

looks  at  me — just  quietly  turns  her  eyes  full 
on  me,  you  know — it  seems  as  if  I  ought  to 
have  a  pinafore  on,  and  she  have  spectacles 
and  a  cap.  Oh,  she  used  to  give  me  the 
jumps,  that  girl  did.  We  haven't  seen  much 
of  each  other,  these  last  few  years;  we 
didn't  hit  it  off  particularly  well — but — why, 
hello !  this  is  odd,  if  you  like ! ' ' 

"What  is  it?"  asked  the  other,  perfunc 
torily. 

Mrs.  Edward  had  been  shuffling  the 
envelopes  in  her  hand  the  while  she  spoke, 
and  idly  noting  their  superscriptions.  She 
held  up  one  of  them  now,  in  explanation  of 
her  remark. 

"Well,  talk  of  the  devil,  you  know — I  was 
speaking  of  my  sister  Frank,  and  here's  a 
letter  from  her.  She  hasn't  written  a  line 
to  me  in — how  long  is  it? — why,  it  must  be — 
well,  certainly  not  since  I  was  married. 
Funny,  isn't  it?  I  wonder  if  it's  anything 
about  the  pater. ' ' 

She  continued  to  regard  the  sealed  missive 
absent-mindedly,  as  if  the  resource  of  open 
ing  it  had  not  yet  suggested  itself  to  her.  In 
the  meantime,  something  else  occurred  to 
her,  and  she  turned  to  face  Lady  Cressage, 
who  had  seated  herself  again. 

"I  meant  what  I  said  about  these  men 
Eddy's  brought  down,"  she  declared.  "I 
90 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

didn't  want  them  to  be  asked,  and  I  don't 
like  their  being  here,  any  more  than  you  do. 
Yes,  I  want  to  have  you  understand,"  she 
persisted,  as  the  other  offered  a  gesture  of 
deprecation,  "I  hope  I'm  the  last  person  in 
the  world  to  round  on  old  pals,  but  really,  as 
I  told  Eddy,  a  man  in  his  position  must  draw 
the  line  somewhere.  I  don't  mind  giving  a 
leg-up  to  old  Pirie — in  a  quiet  way,  of 
course — for  he's  not  half  a  bad  sort  by 
himself;  but  as  for  the  rest,  what  are  they? 
I  don't  care  for  their  families  or  their  com 
missions — I've  seen  too  much  of  the  world 
to  be  taken  in  by  kid  of  that  sort — I  say 
they're  bounders.  I  never  was  what  you 
might  call  keen  about  them  as  the  right 
friends  for  Eddy,  even  before — I  mean  in 
the  old  days,  when  it  didn't  matter  so  much 
what  company  he  kept.  But  now,  with 
everything  so  altered,  he  ought  to  see  that 
they're  not  in  his  class  at  all.  And  that's 
just  what  I  can't  get  him  to  do  in  the  least. " 

"Men  have  their  own  views  in  these 
matters.  They  are  often  rather  difficult  to 
understand,"  commented  Edith,  senten- 
tiously. 

"I  should  think  so!"  began  Mrs.  Edward. 
"Why,  if  I  were  a  man,  and  in  Eddy's 
place — " 

Her  words  had   ended    aimlessly,   as  her 
91 


GLORIA  MUNDI 

eyes  followed  the  lines  of  the  letter  she  had 
at  last  opened  and  begun  to  read.  She 
finished  the  brief  task,  and  then,  going  back 
to  the  top  of  the  single  page,  went  over  it 
again  more  attentively.  There  was  some 
thing  indefinably  impressive  about  the 
silence  in  which  she  did  this,  and  Lady 
Cressage  presently  raised  an  inquiring 
glance.  Mrs.  Edward's  face  exhibited  no 
marked  change  of  expression,  but  it  had 
turned  deathly  pale.  The  unabated  redness 
of  the  lips  gave  this  pallor  a  ghastliness 
which  frightened  Edith,  and  brought  her  to 
her  feet. 

"What  in  the  name—"  she  began,  but  the 
other  held  up  a  black-gloved  hand. 

"Is  this  something  you  know  about? — 
something  you've  been  putting  up?"  Cora 
demanded,  in  a  harsh,  ungoverned  voice, 
moving  forward  as  she  spoke.  * '  Look  at  this. 
Here's  what  my  sister  writes. "  She  did  not 
offer  to  show  the  letter,  but  huskily  read  forth 
its  contents: 

"  'London,  September  30. 

"  'My  dear  Cora:  I  don't  know  whether 
you  will  thank  me  or  not,  but  I  feel  that 
some  one  ought  to  warn  you,  if  only  that  you 
may  pull  yourself  together  to  meet  what  is 
coming.  Your  house  is  built  of  cards,  and 
it  is  only  a  question  of  days,  perhaps  of 
92 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

hours,  when  it  will  be  pushed  over.  Your 
husband  is  not  the  heir,  after  all.  I  am 
truly  in  great  grief  at  the  thought  of  what 
this  will  mean  to  you,  and  I  can  only  hope 
that  you  will  believe  me  when  I  sign  myself, 

"  'Your  sincerely  affectionate  sister, 

"  'FRANCES.'  " 


The  two  women  exchanged  a  tense  look 
in  which  sheer  astonishment  encountered 
terror,  and  mingled  with  it. 

"No,  I  know  nothing  of  this,"  faltered 
Edith,  more  in  response  to  the  other's  wild 
eyes  than  to  the  half-forgotten  inquiries  that 
had  prefaced  the  reading  of  the  letter. 

"No  trick  of  a  child,  eh?  What  do  they 
call  it,  posthumous?"  Cora  panted,  still  with 
the  rough  voice  which  had  shaken  off  the 
yoke  of  tuition. 

Edith  lifted  her  head.  "That  is  absurd," 
she  answered,  curtly. 

As  they  confronted  each  other  thus,  a 
moving  shadow  outside  caught  their  notice. 
Instinctively  turning  their  eyes,  they  beheld 
through  the  glass  a  stranger,  a  slender  young 
man  with  a  soft  hat  of  foreign  fashion,  strid 
ing  across  the  lawn  away  from  the  house. 
He  held  his  head  high  in  the  air,  and  they 
could  see  that  the  hands  carried  stiffly  out 
stretched  at  his  sides  were  clenched. 
93 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

4 'He  struts  across  the  turf  as  if  he  owned 
it,"  said  Edith,  clutching  vaguely  at  the 
meaningless  relief  which  this  interruption 
seemed  to  offer. 

But  Mrs.  Edward  had  sunk  into  the  chair, 
and  buried  her  face  in  her  black-gloved 
hands. 


CHAPTER  V 

Christian  began  his  walk  with  swift,  ener 
getic  steps,  and  a  guiding  eye  fixed  reso 
lutely  on  a  distinguishing  mark  in  the  distant 
line  of  tree-tops  beyond,  as  if  both  speed 
and  directness  of  course  were  of  utmost 
urgency  to  his  purpose.  While  his  body 
moved  forward  thus  automatically,  however, 
his  mind  remained  engrossed  with  what  had 
been  said  and  done  in  the  room  he  was  leav 
ing  behind. 

His  brain  reproduced  over  and  over  again 
the  appearance  of  the  two  young  brothers, 
their  glances  at  each  other,  their  sneering 
scowls  at  him.  The  picture  of  Augustine 
whispering  in  Edward's  ear,  and  of  Edward 
shaking  his  sulky  head,  stuck  in  his  memory 
as  a  living  thing.  He  had  continued  to  see 
it  after  he  had  turned  his  back  on  them  and 
gone  to  the  window.  The  infamous  words 
which  had  been  spoken  about  his  father  were 
a  part  of  this  picture,  and  their  inflection  still 
rang  in  his  ears  just  as  the  young  men  stitt 
stood  before  his  eyes,  compact  of  hostility  to 
him  and  his  blood. 


95 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

The  noise  of  guns  in  the  wood  he  ap 
proached  was  for  a  time  subordinated  in  his 
mind  to  those  bitter  echoes  of  Edward's 
speech.  When  at  last  these  reports  of  firing 
attracted  his  attention,  he  had  passed  out  of 
sight  of  Caermere,  and  found  himself  on  a 
vaguely  defined  path  at  the  end  of  a  broad 
heath,  much  overgrown  with  heather  and 
broom  and  low,  straggling,  inhospitable- 
looking  shrubs  novel  to  his  eye.  Curious 
movements  among  this  shaggy  verdure 
caught  his  wandering  notice,  and  he  stopped 
to  observe  them  more  closely.  A  great 
many  rabbits — or  would  they  be  hares? — 
were  making  their  frightened  escape  from  the 
wood  in  front  of  him,  and  darting  about  for 
cover  in  this  undergrowth.  He  became  con 
scious  now  of  an  extraordinary  tumult  in  the 
wood  itself — a  confused  roar  of  men's  voices 
raised  in  apparently  meaningless  cries, 
accompanied  by  an  unintelligible  pounding 
of  sticks  on  timber  and  crackling  brush. 
This  racket  almost  drowned  the  noise  of  the 
remote  firing;  its  effect  of  consternation 
upon  the  small  inhabitants  of  the  thicket 
was  only  less  than  the  bewilderment  that  it 
caused  in  Christian's  mind.  Forgetting 
altogether  his  own  concerns,  he  pushed 
cautiously  forward  to  spy  out  the  cause  of 
the  commotion. 

96 


GLORIA  MUNDI 

Somewhat  later,  lie  emerged  from  the 
wood  again,  having  obtained  a  tolerable 
notion  of  what  was  going  on.  He  had 
caught  a  view  of  one  line  of  beaters  making 
their  way  through  a  copse,  diagonally  away 
from  him — rough  men  clad  for  the  most  part 
in  white  jackets,  who  shouted  and  thrashed 
about  them  with  staves  as  they  went — and 
it  was  easy  enough  to  connect  their  work, 
and  the  consequent  rise  and  whirring  rush 
of  birds  before  it,  with  the  excited  fusillade 
of  guns  farther  on.  Christian  did  not  get 
a  sight  of  the  sportsmen  themselves.  Albeit 
with  some  doubts  as  to  the  dignity  of  the 
proceeding,  he  made  a  detour  of  the  piece  of 
woodland,  with  the  idea  of  coming  out  upon 
the  shooting  party,  but  when  he  arrived  at 
the  barrier  it  was  to  find  on  the  spot  only  a 
couple  of  men  in  greenish  corduroys,  whom 
he  took  to  be  underkeepers.  They  were  at 
work  before  a  large  heap  of  pheasants,  tying 
the  birds  in  pairs  by  the  necks,  and  hanging 
them  over  a  long  stick,  stretched  between 
two  trees,  which  already  bent  under  its 
burden.  They  glanced  up  from  their  em 
ployment  at  Christian,  and  when  he  stooped 
to  pick  up  one  of  the  cartridge  cases  with 
which  the  ground  at  his  feet  was  strewn, 
they  exchanged  some  muttered  comment  at 
which  both  laughed  aloud.  He  instinctively 

97 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

threw  the  little  tube  down,  and  looked  away 
from  the  men.  The  thought  occurred  to  him 
that  if  they  only  knew  who  he  was  their  con 
fusion  would  be  pathetic,  but  as  it  was,  they 
had  the  monopoly  of  self-possession,  and  it 
was  he  who  shyly  withdrew. 

The  whole  diversion,  however,  had  cleared 
and  sweetened  his  mood.  He  retraced  his 
steps  through  the  wood  and  then  struck  off 
in  a  new  direction  across  the  heath,  at  a 
more  leisurely  pace  than  he  had  come,  his 
mind  dwelling  pleasurably  upon  the  various 
picturesque  phases  of  what  he  had  witnessed. 
The  stray  glimpses  of  la  chasse  which  had 
been  afforded  him  in  the  South  had  had  noth 
ing  in  common  with  this.  The  unkempt 
freedom  of  the  growths  about  him  appealed 
to  his  senses  as  cultivated  parks  and  ordered 
forests  had  never  done.  It  was  all  so  strong 
and  simple  and  natural — and  the  memory  of 
the  beaters  smashing  along  in  the  thicket, 
bawling  and  laying  about  them  with  their 
clubs,  gave  it  a  primitive  note  which  greatly 
pleased  his  fancy. 

The  heath  was  even  finer,  in  his  eyes,  than 
the  wood.  The  air  stirring  across  it,  for  one 
thing,  had  a  quality  which  he  seemed  never 
to  have  known  before — and  the  wild,  almost 
savage,  aspect  of  its  squat  gray  and  russet 
herbage,  the  sense  of  a  splendidly  unashamed 
98 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

idleness  and  unproductiveness  suggested  by 
its  stretches  of  waste  land,  charmed  his 
imagination.  He  said  to  himself,  as  he 
sauntered  here,  that  he  would  gallop  every 
day  across  this  wonderful  plain,  with  a  com 
pany  of  big  dogs  at  his  horse's  heels.  The 
thought  of  the  motion  in  the  saddle  inspired 
him  to  walk  faster.  He  straightened  him 
self,  put  his  hands  to  his  coat  at  the  breast 
as  he  had  seen  young  Englishmen  do  on  their 
pedestrian  tours,  and  strode  briskly  forward, 
humming  to  himself  as  he  moved.  The 
hateful  episode  of  the  morning  had  not  so 
much  faded  from  his  thoughts,  as  shaken 
itself  into  a  new  kaleidoscopic  formation. 
Contact  with  these  noble  realities  out  of 
doors  had  had  the  effect,  as  it  were,  of 
immeasurably  increasing  his  stature.  When 
he  thought  of  those  paltry  cousins  of  his,  it 
was  as  if  he  looked  down  upon  their  insig 
nificance  from  a  height. 

He  came  at  last  face  ;to  face  with  a  high 
stone  wall,  the  pretensions  and  obvious  anti 
quity  of  which  told  him  at  once  that  he  had 
returned  to  the  vicinity  of  the  castle.  Sure 
enough,  there  were  discernible  at  a  con 
siderable  distance  down  to  the  right  some  of 
the  turrets  and  roofs  of  Caermere,  and  he 
turned  his  course  in  that  direction.  It 
seemed  to  him  a  long  way  that  he  walked  by 

99 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

the  side  of  this  great  wall,  marveling  as  he 
did  so  at  its  size  and  at  the  ambitious  views 
of  the  persons  who  built  it.  The  reflection 
that  they  were  ancestors  of  his  own  came  to 
his  mind,  and  expanded  therein.  He  also 
would  build  like  a  great  nobleman  in  his 
time!  What  was  there  so  grand  as  build 
ing? — he  mused  as  he  looked  about  him — 
unless  it  might  be  the  heath  and  the  brown 
ish-purple  hills  beyond,  and  these  also  one 
intuitively  thought  of  as  having  been  built. 
Presently  a  small  doorway  appeared  in  the 
massive  wall,  and  Christian,  finding  it 
unlocked,  passed  through  it  into  a  vast 
garden.  The  inner  and  sunny  side  of  the 
wall,  as  far  as  he  could  see  in  either  direc 
tion,  was  veined  with  the  regularly  espaliered 
branches  of  dwarf  trees  flattened  against  it, 
from  which  still  depended  here  and  there 
belated  specimens  of  choice  fruit.  On  the 
other  side  of  the  path  following  close  this 
wall,  down  which  he  proceeded,  were  endless 
rows  of  small  trees  and  staked  clumps  of 
canes,  all  now  bereft  of  their  season's  prod 
uce.  The  spectacle  did  not  fit  with  what 
had  been  mentioned  to  him  of  the  poverty 
of  Caermere.  Farther  on,  a  tall  hedge 
stretching  at  right  angles  from  the  wall 
separated  this  orchard  from  what  he  saw 
now,  by  glimpses  through  an  open  arch,  to 

100 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

be  a  flower  garden.  He  quickened  his  pace 
at  the  sight,  for  flowers  were  very  near  his 
heart. 

At  first  there  was  not  much  to  move  his 
admiration.  The  sunlit  profusion  of  his  boy 
hood's  home  had  given  him  standards  of  size 
and  glowing  color  which  were  barely  ap 
proached,  and  nowhere  equaled,  here. 
Suddenly  he  came  upon  something,  how 
ever,  before  which  he  perforce  stopped.  It 
was  the  beginning  of  a  long  row  of  dahlias, 
rounded  flowers  on  the  one  side  of  him, 
pointed  and  twisted  cactus  varieties  on  the 
other,  and  he  had  imagined  nothing  like  this 
before  in  his  life.  Apparently  no  two  of  the 
tall  plants,  held  upright  to  the  height  of  his 
breast  by  thick  stakes,  were  alike,  and  he 
knew  not  upon  which  to  expend  the  greater 
delight,  the  beauty  of  their  individual  blos 
soms  or  the  perfection  of  skill  exhibited  in 
the  color-arrangement  of  the  line. 

He  moved  slowly  along,  examining  the 
more  notable  flowers  in  detail  with  such 
ardor  that  a  young  lady  in  a  black  gown,  but 
with  a  broad  hat  of  light  straw  on  her  pale 
hair,  advanced  up  the  path,  paused,  and 
stood  quite  near  him  for  some  moments 
before  he  perceived  her  presence.  Then 
with  a  little  start,  he  took  off  his  hat,  and 
held  it  in  his  hands  while  he  made  a  stiff  bow. 

101 


GLORIA    MUNDI 

"You  are  fond  of  flowers?"  Lady  Cressage 
said,  more  as  a  remark  than  an  inquiry. 
She  observed  him  meanwhile  with  politely 
calm  interest. 

4  *  These  dahlias  are  extraordinary!"  he 
exclaimed,  very  earnestly.  "I  have  never 
seen  such  flowers,  and  such  variety.  It  sur 
prises  me  a  great  deal.  It  is  a  speciality  in 
England,  n'est  ce  pas?" 

"I  think  I  have  heard  that  we  have  carried 
the  dahlia  further  than  other  countries  have 
done,"  responded  the  lady,  courteously 
giving  the  name  the  broad-voweled  sound 
he  had  used.  She  added  with  a  pleasant 
softening  of  eyes  and  lips:  "But  you  ought 
not  to  begrudge  us  one  little  triumph  like 
this — you  who  come  from  the  very  paradise 
of  flowers. ' ' 

The  implication  in  her  words  caused  him 
to  straighten  himself,  and  to  regard  her  with 
a  surprised  new  scrutiny.  He  saw  now  that 
she  was  very  beautiful,  and  he  strove  to 
recall  the  few  casual  remarks  Lord  Julius 
had  dropped  concerning  the  two  ladies  at 
the  castle,  as  a  clue  to  her  identity.  One 
had  been  an  actress,  he  remembered — and 
this  lady's  graceful  equanimity  had,  per 
haps,  something  histrionic  in  it.  But  if  she 
happened  not  to  be  the  actress,  then  it  would 
no  doubt  anger  her  very  much  to  be  taken 

102 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

for  one.  He  knew  so  little  of  women — and 
then  his  own  part  in  the  small  drama  occurred 
to  him. 

"It  is  evident  that  you  understand  who  I 
am,"  he  said,  with  another  bow.  The 
further  thought  that  in  either  case  she  was 
related  to  him,  was  a  part  of  the  family  of 
which  he  would  soon  be  the  head,  came  to 
give  him  fresh  confidence.  "It  is  not  only 
dahlias  that  are  carried  to  unrivaled  heights 
of  beauty  in  England,"  he  added,  and 
bowed  once  more. 

She  smiled  outright  at  this.  "That  is 
somewhat  too — what  shall  I  say? — conti 
nental  for  these  latitudes,"  she  remarked. 
"Men  don't  say  such  glowing  things  in  Eng 
land.  We  haven't  sun  enough,  you  know, 
properly  to  ripen  rose-hips — or  compliments. 
I  should  like  to  introduce  myself,  if  I  may— 
I  am  Edith  Cressage — and  Lord  Julius  has 
told  me  the  wonderful  story  about  you. ' ' 

She  held  out  her  hand  as  she  spoke,  with 
a  deliberate  gesture,  which  afforded  Chris 
tian  time  to  note  its  exquisite  modeling,  if  he 
had  had  the  eyes  for  it.  But  he  took  the 
hand  in  his  own  rather  cursorily,  and  began 
speaking  with  abruptness  before  he  had 
finished  his  bow  and  relinquished  it. 

"It  is  much  too  wonderful,"  he  said, 
hastily.  "It  frightens  me.  I  cannot  get 
103 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

used  to  it.  I  have  the  feeling  that  I  should 
go  away  somewhere,  and  live  by  myself,  till 
it  became  all  familiar  to  me.  But  then  I  see 
it  would  be  just  as  painful,  wherever  I 
went." 

"Oh,  let  us  hope  it  would  be  least  painful 
here,  of  all  places,"  urged  the  lady,  in  gentle 
deprecation  of  his  tone.  "Caermere  is  not 
gay,  but  it  can  be  soothing  and  restful — to 
those  who  stand  in  need  of  solace.  It  has 
come  to  be  my  second  home — I  never 
thought  one  could  grow  so  deeply  attached 
to  a  place.  It  has  been  to  me  like  a  tender 
old  nurse  and  confidante — in  times  when — 
when  its  shelter  and  consolation  were  very 
welcome" — she  faltered  for  an  instant,  with 
averted  face,  then  raised  her  moist  eyes  to 
his,  and  let  them  sparkle — "and  oh,  you  will 
grow  to  love  Caermere  with  all  your  heart. ' ' 

Christian  felt  himself  much  moved.  He 
had  put  on  his  hat,  and  stepped  now  to  her 
side. 

"I  have  seen  nothing  of  it  at  all,"  he  said. 
"I  am  going  to  ask  that  you  shall  show  it  to 
me — you  who  love  it  so  much.  But  if  I  shall 
remain  here  now,  that  I  cannot  in  the  least 
tell.  Nothing  is  arranged,  so  far  as  I  know. 
I  am  quite  in  Lord  Julius'  hands — thus  far." 

They   had   tacitly  begun   to  move   down 
the  path  together,  loitering  to  look  at  plants 
104 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

on   either   side    which    particularly   invited 
notice. 

"Lord  Julius  is  a  remarkable  man,"  she 
said.  "  If  one  is  fortunate  enough  to  enlist 
his  friendship,  there  is  no  end  to  what  he  can 
do  for  him.  You  can  hardly  imagine  what  a 
difference  it  makes  for  you  in  everything — the 
fact  that  he  is  warmly  disposed  towards  you. ' ' 

"Yes,  that  I  have  been  told,"  said  Chris 
tian,  "and  I  see  it  for  myself,  too.  I  do  not 
feel  that  I  know  him  very  well,  as  yet.  It 
was  only  yesterday  morning  that  I  met  him 
for  the  first  time  at  an  hotel  in  Brighton.  We 
breakfasted  together,  we  looked  through 
papers  together  and  then  we  began  a  long 
railway  journey  together,  which  only  ended 
a  few  hours  ago.  We  have  talked  a  great 
deal  in  this  time,  but,  as  I  have  said,  the 
man  himself  is  not  very  clear  to  me  yet. 
But  no  one  could  have  been  kinder — and  I 
think  he  likes  me.  " 

"Oh,  of  course  he  does,"  affirmed  Lady 
Cressage,  as  if  anything  else  would  have 
been  incredible.  "And — talking  with  him 
so  much,  so  continuously,  you  no  doubt 
understand  the  entire  situation.  I  am  glad 
that  he  at  least  left  it  to  me  to  show  you 
over  Caermere ;  there  is  apparently  nothing 
else  in  which  I  can  be  of  use." 

Christian,   though   he    smiled    in    kindly 
105 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

recognition  of  her  attitude,  offered  no  verbal 
comment,  and  after  a  wandering  digression 
about  dahlias,  she  returned  to  the  subject. 

"If  there  is  anything  I  can  tell  you — about 
the  family,  the  position  of  affairs  in  general, 
and  so  on — you  should  not  stand  on 
ceremony  with  me.  Has  he,  for  example, 
explained  about  money  affairs?" 

The  young  man  looked  keenly  at  her  for 
an  instant,  as  if  the  question  took  him  by 
surprise.  Then  he  answered  frankly  enough : 
"Nothing  definite.  I  only  gather  that  it 
will  be  made  easier  for  me  than  it  would 
have  been  for — for  other  members  of  the 
family,  if  they — had  been  in  my  place.  But 
perhaps  that  is  not  what  I  should  say  to 
you." 

Lady  Cressage  smiled  on  him  reassur 
ingly. 

"Oh,  don't  think  of  me  in  that  light,"  she 
pleaded.  "I  stand  quite  outside  the — what 
shall  I  say? — the  interested  family  circle.  I 
have  no  ax  of  any  description  to  grind. 
You,  of  course,  have  been  told  my  position 
in  the  castle — that  is,  so  far  as  it  can  be  told 
by  others.  It  is  a  simple  enough  story — I 
was  to  have  been  everything,  and  then  the 
wind  happens  to  change  off  the  Welsh  coast 
and  lo !  I  am  nothing — nothing !  It  is  not 
even  certain  that  I  am  not  a  beggar— living 
1 06 


GLORIA  MUNDI 

here  on  alms.  Legally,  everything  is  in 
such  confusion  that  no  one  knows  how  he 
stands.  But  so  far  as  I  am  concerned,  it 
doesn't  matter.  My  cup  has  been  filled  so 
full — so  long — that  a  little  more  or  less 
trouble  is  of  no  importance.  Oh,  I  assure 
you,  I  do  not  desire  to  be  considered  in  the 
matter  at  all. ' ' 

She  made  this  last  declaration  with  great 
earnestness,  in  immediate  response  to  the 
sympathetic  look  and  gesture  with  which 
Christian  had  interrupted  her  narrative. 

His  gentle  eyes  regarded  her  troubled 
beauty  with  compassionate  softness.  "I 
venture  to  think  that  you  will  be  considered 
a  good  deal,  none  the  less,"  he  remarked, 
in  a  grave  yet  eager  tone.  The  sense  of 
elation  at  being  able  to  play  the  part  of 
Providence  to  such  a  lady  spread  through 
his  mind  and  possessed  his  being.  The  lofty 
possibilities  of  the  powers  devolving  upon 
him  had  never  been  so  apparent  before.  He 
instinctively  put  out  his  arm  toward  her,  in 
such  overt  fashion  that  she  could  but  take  it. 
She  did  not  lean  upon  it,  but  imparted  to 
the  contact  instead  a  kind  of  ceremonial 
reserve  which  directly  ministered  to  the 
patrician  side  of  his  mood. 

They  walked,  if  possible,  still  more  slowly 
now,  pausing  before  almost  every  stake; 
107 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

their  talk  was  of  the  flowers,  with  occasional 
lapses  into  the  personal. 

"What  you  said  about  Lord  Julius,"  she 
remarked,  in  one  of  these  interludes,  "is 
quite  true.  He  has  it  in  his  power  to  say 
whether  the  duke  shall  be  a  rich  man  or  a 
pauper,  and  until  yesterday  he  was  all  for 
the  pauper.  If  poor  Porlock  and  his  sons 
had  lived,  they  knew  very  well  that  Lord 
Julius  was  no  friend  of  theirs,  and  would 
starve  the  title  whichever  of  them  had  it. 
And  so  with  these  others — Edward  and 
Augustine — only  with  them,  it  isn't  merely 
dislike  but  loathing  that  Lord  Julius  has  for 
them. ' ' 

' '  I  met  those  young  gentlemen  this  morn 
ing,"  said  Christian  stiffly.  "It  seemed  to 
me  that  Lord  Julius  went  quite  out  of  his 
way  to  be  kind  with  them.  I  should  never 
have  gathered  that  he  hated  them. ' ' 

"Oh,  not  personally,"  she  explained.  "I 
don't  think  he  dislikes  anybody  personally. 
But  in  what  you  may  call  their  representa 
tive  capacity  he  is  furious  with  people  if  they 
don't  measure  up  to  his  idea  of  what  they 
should  be.  I  never  heard  of  any  other 
family  that  had  such  a  man  in  it.  I  used  to 
admire  him  very  much — when  I  was  newly 
married — I  thought  his  ideals  for  the  family 
were  so  noble  and  fine — but  I  don't  know — " 

108 


GLORIA    MUNDI 

"Do  you  have  suspicions  of  Julius,  then?" 
asked  Christian,  hurriedly. 

"Oh,  no,  no!"  she  protested.  "Nothing 
is  farther  from  my  thoughts.  Only  I  have 
seen  it  all,  here.  I  have  lived  in  the  very 
heart  of  it — and  much  as  I  sympathize  with 
his  feelings,  I  can't  help  feeling  that  he  is 
unjust — not  willfully,  but  still  unjust.  He 
and  his  son  are  men  of  great  intelligence 
and  refined  tastes ;  they  would  do  honor  to 
any  position.  But  is  it  quite  fair  of  them  to 
be  so  hard  on  cousins  of  theirs  who  were  not 
given  great  intelligence,  and  who  had  no 
capacity  whatever  for  refinement?  That  is 
what  I  mean.  You  saw  those  young  men 
this  morning.  They  are  not  up  to  much, 
certainly ;  their  uncle  Porlock  and  his  sons 
averaged,  perhaps,  even  a  shade  lower — 
you  see  I  am  speaking  quite  frankly — but 
when  it  is  all  said  and  done,  they  were  not 
so  remarkably  worse  than  other  men  of 
their  class.  If  any  of  the  six  had  succeeded 
to  the  title,  he  would  not  have  been  such  a 
startling  anomaly  in  the  peerage.  I  doubt 
if  he  would  have  attracted  attention,  one 
way  or  the  other.  But  it  became  a  fixed  idea 
with  Lord  Julius  years  ago  to  get  control 
of  the  estates,  and  to  use  this  control  to  bully 
the  elder  line  into  the  paths  of  sweetness 
and  light.  It  didn't  succeed  in  the  least — 
109 


GLORIA  MUNDI 

and  I  think  he  grew  a  little  spiteful.  That 
is  alL  And  besides — what  does  it  matter? 
It  is  all  ancient  history  now. ' ' 

Christian  was  looking  straight  before  him, 
with  a  meditative  gaze.  They  walked  for 
some  moments  in  silence  before  he  spoke. 
"And  how  did  he  know  that  he  would  like 
me?"  he  demanded,  musingly.  "How 
should  he  be  confident  that  I  was  better  than 
the  others?  Perhaps — do  you  know? — was 
he  very  fond  of  my  father?" 

"I  have  no  idea,"  she  responded.  It  was 
impossible  not  to  note  the  brevity  of  her 
tone. 

"No  one  speaks  willingly  of  my  father," 
he  broke  forth  with  impulsive  bitterness. 
"Even  Lord  Julius  would  tell  me  nothing 
of  him.  And  the  young  lady  on  the  boat — 
she  too—" 

He  paused,  and  his  companion,  who  had 
been  looking  away,  glanced  again  at  him. 
"The  young-  lady  on  the  boat,"  she  said, 
more  by  way  of  suggesting  to  him  a  safe 
topic  than  as  an  inquiry. 

"Oh,  I  much  want  to  know  who  she  can 
be,"  he  cried,  unconsciously  accepting  the 
diversion.  He  described  the  meeting  at 
Rouen,  the  conversation  and,  after  a  fashion 
of  his  own,  the  girl  herself.  "She  said,"  he 
went  on,  "that  she  had  personally  something 
no 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

to  do  with  the  story — 'remotely'  was  the 
word  she  used.  I  asked  Lord  Julius,  but  he 
could  not  think  who  she  might  be.  She 
earns  her  own  living — she  told  me  that — 
and  she  had  never  been  out  of  England 
before.  She  is  not  well  educated — in  the 
school  sense,  I  mean — her  French  was 
ridiculous.  But  she  spoke  very  beautifully 
her  own  language,  and  her  mind  filled  me 
with  charm,  but  even  more  so  her  good 
heart.  We  swore  friendship  for  all  time — or 
at  least  I  did." 

"Dear  me!"  said  Lady  Cressage.  Her 
thoughts  had  not  been  idle,  and  they 
brought  to  her  now  on  the  instant  a  satis 
factory  clue.  She  pondered  it  for  a  little, 
before  she  decided  to  speak.  "I  think  I 
know  who  this  remarkable  young  lady  must 
be,"  she  observed  then.  "This  Captain 
Edward  whom  you  met  this  morning — he  has 
a  wife." 

"Yes,  I  know,"  put  in  Christian  abruptly 
—"the  actress-lady;  Julius  told  me  of  her.' 
"I    suppose    'actress*     would    cover    the 
thing,"  she  answered,  with  an  air  of  amiable 
indifference.      "She  danced  more  than  she 
acted,  I  believe,  but  'actress'  is  a  very  gen 
eral  term.     Well,  your  eternal  friend  is,   I 
suspect,  her  younger  sister.     I  have  never 
seen  her,  but  by  accident  I  happen  to  know 
in 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

that  she  is  aware  of  your  coming  to  Eng 
land." 

Christian's  mobile  face  had  lengthened 
somewhat.  "Is  she  also  an— an  'actress'?" 
he  asked,  dolefully. 

Lady  Cressage  looked  skyward,  with  half- 
closed  eyes,  in  an  effort  of  memory, 
really  seem  to  have  heard  what  she  did," 
she  mused,  hesitatingly.  "I  know  her  sis 
ter  has  often  spoken  of  her.  Is  it  'barmaid'? 
No.  'Telegraph'?  No,  it's  her  father 
who's  in  the  General  Post  Office.  Why, 
now,  how  stupid  of  me!  She  can't  be  a 
nurse,  of  course,  or  there  would  have  been 
her  uniform.  Oh,  now  I  remember — she's 
a  typewriter." 

It  was  not  clear  to  her  whether  Christian 
wholly  comprehended  the  term,  now  that 
she  had  found  it.  She  perceived,  however, 
that  he  disliked  something  in  what  she  had 
said,  or  in  her  manner  of  saying  it.  The 
remarkable  responsiveness  of  his  counte 
nance  to  passing  emotions  and  moods  within 
him  had  already  impressed  her.  She 
regarded  his  profile  now  with  a  sidelong 
glance,  and  reconstructed  some  of  her 
notions  about  him  by  the  help  of  what  she 
saw.  Nothing  was  said,  until  suddenly  he 
paused,  gazing  with  kindled  eye  upon  the 
prospect  opened  before  him. 


112 


GLORIA    MUNDI 

They  had  come  to  the  end  of  the  garden, 
and  stood  at  the  summit  of  a  broad  stone- 
kerbed  path  descending  in  terraces.  Above 
them,  the  dense  foliage  of  the  yews  rising  at 
either  side  of  the  gap  in  the  hedge  had  been 
trained  and  cut  into  an  arched  canopy. 
From  under  this  green  gateway  Christian 
looked  down  upon  a  Caermere  he  had  not 
imagined  to  himself  before. 

The  castle  revealed  itself  for  the  first 
time,  as  he  beheld  it  now,  in  its  character 
as  a  great  medieval  fortress.  On  his  arrival 
in  the  morning,  emerging  from  the  shad 
owed  driveway  into  the  immediate  precinct 
of  the  house,  he  had  seen  only  its  variously 
modernized  parts;  these,  as  they  were 
viewed  from  this  altitude,  shrank  to  their 
proper  proportions — an  inconsiderable  frac 
tion  of  the  mighty  whole.  All  about,  the 
massive  shoulders  of  big  hills  shelved  down 
ward  to  form  the  basin-like  hollow  in  which 
the  castle  seemed  to  stand,  but  their  large 
bulk,  so  far  from  dwarfing  Caermere,  pro 
duced  the  effect  of  emphasizing  its  dimen 
sions.  Its  dark-gray  walls  and  towers,  with 
their  bulging  clumps  of  chimneys  and 
turrets,  and  lusterless  facets  of  many-angled 
roofings,  all  of  somber  slate,  were  visibly  the 
product,  the  very  child,  of  the  mountains. 
A  sensation  of  grim,  adamantine,  implacable 
113 


GLORIA    MUNDI 

power  took  hold  of  the  young  man's  brain  as 
he  gazed.  For  a  long  time  he  did  not  want 
to  talk,  and  felt  vaguely  that  he  was  signify 
ing  this  by  the  slight,  sustained  pressure  of 
his  arm  against  hers.  At  all  events,  she 
grasped  his  wish,  and  preserved  silence, 
holding  herself  a  little  behind  him,  so  that 
he  might  look  down,  without  distraction, 
upon  his  kingdom. 

"These  Torrs,"  he  burst  forth  all  at  once, 
with  a  nervous  uncertainty  in  his  tones  as  of 
one  out  of  breath,  "these  ancestors  of  mine 
—the  family  I  belong  to— did  they  produce 
great  men?  You  must  know  their  history. 
Julius  says  we  are  the  most  ancient  family 
in  England.  I  have  not  had  the  time  yet  to 
learn  anything  of  what  we  did.  Were  there 
heroes  and  famous  soldiers  and  learned 
scholars  among  us?  To  look  at  that  wonder 
ful  castle  there  at  our  feet,  it  seems  as  if 
none  but  born  chiefs  and  rulers  of  mankind 
could  ever  have  come  out  of  it. ' ' 

"Captain  Edward  and  his  brother  Augus 
tine  were  both  born  there,"  she  permitted 
her  own  over-quick  tongue  to  comment. 

He  let  her  arm  drop  from  his  with  a  swift 
gesture,  and  wheeled  round  to  look  her  in 
the  face.  The  glance  in  his  eyes  said  so 
much  to  her  that  she  hastened  to  anticipate 
his  speech. 

114 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

"Forgive  me!"  she  urged  hastily.  "It 
was  silly  thoughtlessness  of  mine.  I  do  not 
know  you  at  all  well  as  yet,  you  know,  and 
I  say  the  wrong  things  to  you.  Do  tell  me 
you  forgive  me!  And  it  is  only  fair  to 
myself  to  say,  too,  that  I  have  been  in  a  bad 
school  these  last  few  years.  Conversation 
as  one  practices  it  at  Caermere  is  merely  the 
art  of  making  everything  pointed  and  sharp 
enough  to  pierce  thick  skins.  I  should  have 

remembered  that  you  were  different it  was 

unpardonable    of  me!      But  I    have   really 
angered  you!" 

Christian,  still  looking  at  her,  found  him 
self  gently  shaking  his  head  in  reassurance. 
It  was  plain  enough  to  him  that  this  beauti 
ful  young  woman  had  suffered  much,  and 
that  at  the  hands  of  his  own  people.  What 
wonder  that  acrid  memories  of  them  should 
find  their  way  to  her  lips?  He  also  had 
been  unhappy.  He  smiled  gravely  into  her 
face  at  the  softening  recollection. 

"We  were  speaking  of  different  things,  I 
think,"  he  commented,  and  nodded  approval 
at  sight  of  the  relieved  change  which  his 
tone  brought  to  her  countenance.  "I  know 
very  well  there  are  many  disagreeable  and 
unpleasant  matters  close  about  us — when  we 
are  down  below,  there.  But  now  we  are  up 
above  them,  and  we  forget  them  all,  or 


GLORIA    MUNDI 

ignore  them — and  I  was  asking  you  about 
the  history  of  the  family — its  ancient  his 
tory." 

She  put  her  hand  lightly  upon  his  arm 
again.  "Lord  Julius  is  right  about  it  being 
a  very,  very  long  history, ' '  she  said,  putting 
into  her  voice  a  tacit  recognition  of  his 
magnanimity.  "I  know  it,  in  a  certain  way, 
but  I  can  hardly  make  a  good  story  o£  it, 
I'm  afraid.  The  family  is  Keltic,  you  know. 
That  is  what  is  always  said  about  it,  as  its 
most  distinguishing  characteristic.  It  is 
the  only  large  English  one  which  managed  to 
survive  through  the  Saxon  period,  and  then 
the  Norman  period,  and  keep  its  name  and 
its  estates  and  its  territorial  power.  This 
makes  it  very  interesting  to  historians  and 
archaeologists.  There  are  many  stone  cir 
cles  and  Druidic  monuments  about  here, 
some  of  which  are  said  to  be  connected  with 
the  introduction  of  Christianity  into  Britain. 
You  will  see  them  another  day,  and  read 
the  legends  about  them.  Well,  it  is  said 
that  the  chief  who  possessed  this  land  here, 
and  who  had  some  kind  of  a  stronghold 
there  where  the  castle  is,  at  that  time,  was  a 
Torr.  Of  course,  there  were  no  surnames 
then,  but  it  would  have  been  his  tribal 
appellation,  or  something  of  the  sort.  The 
fact  itself,  I  believe,  is  generally  accepted— 

116 


GLORIA  MUNDI 

that  the  family  that  was  here  in  St.  David's 
time  is  here  now.  It  is  a  tradition  that 
there  should  always  be  a  David  in  the  fam 
ily  ;  it  used  to  be  the  leading  name,  but  now 
Christian  is  usually  the  duke's  name,  and  the 
others  are  all  saints,  like  Anselm,  Edward, 
Augustine  and — and  so  forth. ' ' 

The  young  man  looked  down  in  medita 
tion  upon  the  gloomy,  historic  pile.  "It  is  a 
very  grand  beginning,"  he  said,  thought 
fully. 

"Perhaps  it  was  too  grand  for  mere 
mortals  to  live  up  to, ' '  she  ventured,  with  a 
cautious  sidelong  eye  on  him. 

"I  see  your  meaning,"  he  assented,  nod 
ding.  "Yes,  no  doubt  it  is  natural.  It  is  as 
if  a  boy  were  named  Napoleon.  He  would 
be  frightened  to  think  what  he  had  done  to 
make  his  name  and  himself  fit  together — 
and  very  likely  he  would  never  do  anything 
at  all." 

"Yes,  that  is  it,"  she  answered,  and  drew 
a  long,  consolatory  breath. 

They  had  begun  to  move  down  the  wide 
winding  path,  and  when  they  paused  pres 
ently  at  one  of  the  steps  to  note  a  new  view 
of  the  buildings,  she  called  his  attention  to 
something  by  a  little  exclamation  and  a 
pointing  finger. 

"Do  you  see  the  balcony  there,  up  above 

117 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

and  to  the  left  of  the  flat-topped  tower — no. 
this  side  of  the  highest  chimneys — there  are 
figures  coming  out  on  it  from  the  window." 

"There  is  some  one  in  a  reclining  chair, 
n'est  ce  pas?"  he  asked,  following  her 
finger. 

"It  is  your  grandfather,"  she  said  softly. 
"Those  are  his  apartments — the  rows  of  win 
dows  with  the  white  woodwork.  When  the 
sun  gets  round  to  them,  they  bring  him  out 
— if  he  is  strong  enough.  Evidently  this 
is  one  of  his  good  days." 

Christian,  gazing  eagerly,  made  out  be 
yond  the  attendants  and  the  couch  they 
bore,  another  figure,  with  a  splash  of  white 
like  a  shield  upon  its  front. 

"Is  it  not  Julius?"  he  asked  swiftly,  press 
ing  her  arm.  "Oh,  then  by  this  time  my 
grandfather  knows  of  me — knows  that  I  am 
here!  Should  you  not  think  so?  And  no 
doubt,  since  it  is  his  good  day,  they  will  take 
me  to  see  him.  Is  that  not  probable?" 

"I  haven't  the  least  idea,"  she  responded, 
after  a  momentary  pause,  "either  as  to  what 
Lord  Julius  has  told  him,  or  as  to  how  much 
he  is  capable  of  understanding.  Except 
from  this  distance,  I  have  not  seen  him 
since  he  was  struck  down  with  paralysis.  I 
know  nothing  of  his  condition  beyond  a 
stray,  guarded  word  now  and  then  from  the 
118 


GLORIA    MUNDI 

doctors.  If  I  were  a  professional  thief  and 
he  a  crown  jewel,  I  could  not  have  been 
more  securely  shut  out  from  him ! ' ' 

The  melancholy  bitterness  of  her  words 
and  tone  appealed  to  the  young  man.  He 
drew  her  hand  closer  to  his  side  by  a  deli 
cate  pressure  of  the  arm.  "I  can  see  that 
you  have  been  very  unhappy,"  he  said, 
compassionately. 

"Oh-h-h!"  she  murmured,  with  a  shud 
dering  sigh.  "Don't— don't  speak  of  it,  I 
beg  of  you!" 

"I  also  have  had  a  sad  youth,"  he  went 
on,  unconsciously  tightening  his  arm.  "But 
now"— and  he  lifted  his  head  and  smiled— 
"who  knows?  Who  shall  say  that  the  bad 
days  are  not  all  gone — for  both  of  us?" 

Only  the  flutter  of  the  hand  against  his 
arm  made  answer.  They  walked  on  to 
gether  down  the  broad  sunlit  path. 


119 


CHAPTER   VI 

At  the  foot  of  the  terraced  slope,  the 
wide,  graveled  path  down  which  Lady 
Cressage  had  led  Christian  described  a  foral 
curve  to  the  right,  across  a  lawn  which  he 
recognized  as  belonging  to  his  morning's 
experiences.  The  angle  of  the  high,  domed 
conservatory  recalled  itself  to  him.  Beyond 
it,  on  the  same  side,  would  be  the  window 
from  which  he  had  quitted  the  house. 

To  the  left,  a  smaller  footpath  turned 
into  still  another  garden,  and  he  was  glad 
that  his  companion  moved  this  way.  They 
were  in  a  relatively  small  inclosure,  hedged 
upon  three  sides  by  closely  knit  high  walls 
of  box;  the  straggling,  untrimmed  pro 
fusion  of  this  tall  growth,  through  which  a 
multitude  of  sweet-briers  thrust  still  farther 
upward  their  dipping  and  interlaced  green 
rods,  gave  the  place  a  homely  if  unkempt 
aspect.  On  the  fourth  side  rose  the  blue- 
gray  masonry  of  the  castle  itself — an  ancient 
curtain  stretched  between  two  towers.  The 
autumn  sunlight  lay  upon  this  stained  old 
wall,  and  warmed  it,  and  glowec?.  softly 

121 


GLORIA    MUNDI 

among  the  leaves  and  saffron  blossoms  of 
the  great  rose-tree  trained  upon  it.  This 
garden  preserved  the  outlines  of  some 
former  quaint  arrangement  of  walks  and 
beds,  but  these  were  comfortably  softened 
everywhere,  and  in  part  obscured,  by  the 
untrammeled  freedom  of  vegetation.  Even 
over  the  moldering  red  tiles  of  the  paths 
mosses  had  been  suffered  to  creep  un 
molested.  A  few  late  roses  were  in  bloom 
here  and  there,  and  at  one  corner  there 
rose  a  colony  of  graceful  white  lilies,  the 
scent  of  which  filled  the  air.  It  was  all 
very  restful  and  charming,  and  Christian, 
pausing  to  gaze  about  him,  gave  little  excla 
mations  of  pleasure  at  what  he  saw. 

In  the  center  of  the  garden,  surrounded 
by  a  low  seat  of  weather-worn  woodwork, 
was  what  seemed  to  be  a  fountain,  culmi 
nating  in  a  piece  of  statuary,  so  blackened  and 
battered  by  time  and  storm  that  little  could 
be  made  out  of  its  creator's  intentions. 
Christian,  with  some  murmured  inquiry,  led 
the  way  toward  this — and  then  perceived 
that  Lord  Julius,  who  had  been  sitting  at 
the  other  and  sunny  side  of  the  statue,  was 
standing  now  in  the  path,  confronting  the 
new-comers  with  a  friendly  smile. 

"This  is  my  particular  haunt  at  Caer- 
mere,"  he  explained  to  the  young  man. 

122 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

"In  so  huge  a  place,  one  is  lost  if  he  does 
not  fasten  upon  a  special  corner  or  nook  of 
some  sort,  and  send  down  roots  in  it  and 
make  it  his  own.  This  was  my  mother's 
garden,  and  for  over  fifty  years  now  I  have 
bargained  with  one  generation  of  head  gar 
deners  after  another  to  leave  it  alone — as 
she  left  it.  When  Cheltnam  came,  he  was 
so  famous  a  person  that  I  submitted  to  his 
budding  some  new  varieties  on  the  old  wall- 
rose  there — but,  bless  me,  even  that  is  thirty 
years  ago — before  either  of  you  was  born.  I 
see  you  young  people  have  lost  no  time  in 
becoming  acquainted." 

Edith  Cressage  looked  into  the  old  gentle 
man's  eyes  for  a  moment  before  she  replied. 
They  had  exchanged  this  same  glance — on 
her  side  at  once  puzzled,  suspicious,  defiant ; 
on  his  full  of  a  geniality  possibly  pointed 
with  cynicism — very  often  during  the  last 
four  years,  without  affecting  by  it  any  pre 
possession  or  prejudice  in  cither's  mind. 
"We  met  by  accident  in  the  upper  fruit- 
walk,  and  I  introduced  myself.  It  must  be 
quite  luncheon  time.  Shall  we  go  in?" 
She  added,  as  upon  an  afterthought,  and 
with  another  steadfast  look  into  his  face,  4tl 
have  promised  to  show  him  over  the  house 
and  the  castle. ' ' 

"Admirable!"  said  Lord  Julius,  cordially. 
123 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

He  looked  at  his  watch.  "We  will  follow 
3^011  in  a  very  few  moments,  if  we  may.  I 
dare  say  he  is  as  ready  for  luncheon  as  I 
am,  but  I  want  to  show  him  my  old  garden 
first." 

"Oh,  let  me  stop  too!"  she  exclaimed, 
without  an  instant's  hesitation.  "May  I 
confess  it? — when  you're  not  here  I  call  it 
my  garden,  too.  I  knew  it  was  your 
mother's — and  I  was  always  going  to  ask 
you  to  tell  me  about  her,  but  the  oppor 
tunity  never  offered.  It  is  the  one  really 
perfect  spot  at  Caermere,  even  to  me.  And 
I  can  understand  how  infinitely  these  old 
associations  add  to  its  charms  for  you!  1 
shall  truly  not  be  in  the  way  if  I  stop?" 

The  elder  man  regarded  her  with  a  twink 
ling  eye  from  under  his  broad  hat-brim  as 
he  shook  his  head.  * '  To  the  contrary,  we  are 
both  delighted,"  he  answered,  amiably 
enough.  He  began  leading  the  way  at  this, 
and  the  two  young  people,  walking  perforce 
very  close  together  on  the  narrow  path,  fol 
lowed  at  his  heels. 

He  pointed  out  to  them  that  the  foun 
tain,  which  he  could  not  remember  being  in 
working  order  even  in  his  boyhood,  was 
built  over  the  ancient  well  of  the  castle. 
The  statue  apparently  dated  from  William 
and  Mary's  time;  at  least,  it  was  very  like 
124 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

the  objects  they  set  up  at  Hampton  Court. 
Part  of  its  pedestal  was  made  of  three 
Ogham  stones,  which  were  said  to  have 
stood  by  the  well  in  former  times.  Flint 
knives  and  other  primitive  weapons  had  been 
found  in  the  garden.  Antiquaries  were  not 
agreed  as  to  the  possibility  of  the  wrell  hav 
ing  been  in  existence  at  any  very  remote 
period,  but  it  was  not  unlikely  that  this 
small  garden  had  been  the  center  of  interest 
— perhaps  the  scene  of  Druidical  sacrifices, 
or  even  of  the  famous  conversion  of  the 
tribe  resident  here  by  St.  David — at  the 
beginning  of  things.  These  speculations  as 
to  precise  localities  were  interesting,  but 
scarcely  convincing.  The  wall  at  the  end 
was  a  more  definite  affair.  It  had  been 
built  after  the  Third  Crusade  by  Stephen  de 
la  Tour,  as  the  Normanized  name  went 
then. 

"Ah,  the  name  has  not  always  been 
spelled  the  same  then?"  interrupted  Chris 
tian  here.  He  spoke  with  an  eagerness 
which  the  abstract  interest  of  the  query 
seemed  hardly  to  warrant. 

*  *  Heavens,  no ! "  said  Lord  Julius.  *  *  It  has 
been  Tor  with  one  V  and  with  two;  it  has 
been  de  la  Tour,  as  I  said,  and  Tour  with 
out  the  'de  la,'  and  Toure,  and  I  know  of  at 
least  one  branch  of  the  people  of  the  name 
125 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

of  Tower  who  are  undoubtedly  of  our  stock. 
It  is  quite  conceivable  that  many  others  of 
them  are,  too." 

"Then  the  forms  of  names  can  be  altered 
at  will?"  pursued  Christian.  "If  a  man 
says,  *  I  will  spell  it  so  and  so, '  then  it  is  all 
right?" 

"Oh,  yes,"  explained  the  other.  "Often 
two  spellings  exist  side  by  side.  Witness 
the  Seymours  a  few  years  ago.  You  had 
one  brother  writing  it  Seymour  and  another 
St.  Maur.  The  latter  is  now  the  official 
spelling — for  the  present,  at  least." 

"This  is  extremely  interesting  to  me,"  the 
young  man  cried.  "Sol  may  keep  my  name 
as  I  have  always  borne  it!  I  may  write 
myself  'Christian  Tower' !  That  lifts  a  load 
from  my  mind.  I  had  been  unhappy  to 
think  of  abandoning  the  name  my  father 
liked.  He  always  both  spelled  and  pro 
nounced  it  4  Tower,'  and  that  is  why  I  shall 
be  so  glad  to  do  the  same." 
'  An  acute  kind  of  silence  rested  upon  the 
group  for  an  awkward  minute. 

"Oh,  don't  let  us  have  any  more  archae 
ology  before  luncheon,  Lord  Julius,"  put  in 
the  lady  then.  "Caermere  so  reeks  with 
history  that  one  must  take  it  in  small  install 
ments  or  be  overwhelmed  altogether.  You 
were  going  to  tell  us  about  your  mother, 
126 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

Lord  Julius,  and  how  you  remember  her, 
here  in  this  dear  old  garden.  And  posi 
tively  nothing  has  been  changed  since!" 

"I  mustn't  go  quite  so  far  as  that,"  said 
the  old  man,  smilingly.  He  seemed  grate 
ful  to  her  for  the  digression.  "A  certain 
systematic  renovation  has,  of  course,  been 
necessary;  I  have  arranged  with  the  gar 
deners  to  manage  that.  I  dare  say  there  are 
scarcely  any  plants  or  roots  here  now  which 
were  individually  in  existence  in  my 
mother's  time;  but  their  children,  their 
descendants,  are  here  in  their  places. 
Except  for  Cheltnam's  buds  on  the  wall 
there,  I  don't  think  any  novelties  have  been 
introduced.  If  so,  it  was  against  my  wish. 
The  lilies  in  that  corner,  for  example,  are 
lineal  progeny,  heaven  knows  how  many 
times  removed,  of  the  lilies  my  mother 
planted  there.  These  roses  are  slips  from 
other  slips  of  the  old  cabbage  and  damask 
and  moss  roses  she  used  to  sit  and  look  at 
with  her  crewel-work  in  her  lap.  The  old 
flowers  are  gone,  and  yet  they  are  not  gone. 
In  the  same  way,  my  mother  has  been  dead 
for  sixty  years,  and  yet  this  is  still  her  gar 
den,  and  she  is  still  here — here  in  the  person 
of  me,  her  son,  and  of  Christian,  her  great- 
grandson." 

"And  I,"  commented  Lady  Cressage, 
127 


GLORIA    MUNDI 

upon  a  sudden  smiling  impulse,  "I  alone  am 
an  intruding  new  species — like  one  of  Chelt- 
nam's  'niphetos'  buds  on  the  old  rose.  I 
hasten  to  extricate  myself."  And  with  a 
bright  little  nod  and  mock  half-courtesy,  she 
caught  her  gown  in  one  hand,  wheeled  round 
and  moved  quickly  down  the  path  and 
through  the  hedge. 

The  two  men  watched  her  till  she  van 
ished. 

"She  is  a  beautiful  lady,"  observed  Chris 
tian,  with  enthusiasm;  "and  very  courteous, 
too." 

Lord  Julius  offered  no  remark  upon  this, 
but  stood  for  a  little  with  his  gaze  appar 
ently  fixed  on  the  point  whence  she  had 
disappeared.  Then,  without  turning  his 
head,  he  said  in  a  gently  grave  way : 

"If  I  were  you,  Christian,  I  would  make 
as  few  allusions,  in  mixed  company,  to  my 
father  as  possible." 

"Ah,  yes!  this  is  what  I  desired  to  discuss 
with  you!"  said  the  young  man,  stoutly. 
He  swung  round  to  face  the  other,  and  his 
eyes  sparkled  with  impatience.  * '  Everybody 
avoids  mention  of  him ;  they  turn  to  some 
thing  else  when  I  speak  his  name — all  but 
those  abominable  young  men  who  offered 
him  insult.  That  is  what  I  should  very 
much  like  to  talk  about!" 
128 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

"I  had  thought  it  might  not  be  neces 
sary,"  replied  Lord  Julius.  "At  least,  I  had 
hoped  you  would  pick  up  the  information  for 
yourself— a  harmless  little  at  a  time,  and 
guess  the  rest,  and  so  spare  everybody, 
yourself  included.  But  that  is  precisely 
what  you  seem  not  to  do ;  and  I  dare  say  I 
was  wrong  in  not  talking  frankly  with  you 
at  the  start.  But  let  me  understand  first : 
what  do  you  know  about  your  father?" 

"Only  that  he  was  a  soldier,  a  professional 
soldier.  That  I  have  told  you,"  panted 
Christian. 

"Yes,  and  a  very  notable  soldier,"  re 
sponded  the  other.  "He  won  the  Victoria 
Cross  in  the  Mutiny — the  youngest  man  in 
all  India  to  do  so.  That  is  for  you  to  re 
member  always — in  your  own  mind — for 
your  own  pride  and  consolation." 

"Ah,  yes,  always!"  murmured  the  son. 

"And  in  other  services,  too,  after  he  left 
England,"  the  elder  man  went  on,  "I  have 
understood  that  he  was  a  loyal  and  very 
valuable  officer  to  those  he  fought  for. 
This  also  is  something  for  you  to  be  proud 
of — but  still  inside  your  own  mind !  That  it  is 
necessary  to  remember — that  you  must  keep 
it  to  yourself.  Forgive  my  repeating  the 
injunction." 

"Go  on!"  said  Christian. 
129 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

"Well,"  Lord  Julius  began,  speaking  with 
more  hesitation,  "Ambrose  as  a  soldier  was 
magnificent,  but  you  know  enough  from 
your  books  to  know  that  splendid  soldiers 
may  easily  be — how  shall  I  say? — not  so 
splendid  in  other  walks  of  life.  It  is  to  be 
said  for  him  that  he  was  bare  twenty-three 
—poor  boy.  It  was  in  1859;  and,  as  misery 
would  have  it,  I  was  in  Syria,  traveling  with 
my  wife.  Perhaps  if  I  had  been  in  Eng 
land,  I  could  have  done  something.  As  it 
was,  there  was  no  one  to  help  him ;  and  of 
course  it  may  be  that  he  couldn't  have  been 
helped.  It  was  a  case  of  a  young  man 
returning  to  London,  with  honors  and  flat 
tery  enough  to  turn  even  an  old  head,  and 
walking  blindfold  into  the  worst  company  in 
Europe.  I  have  no  intention  of  going  into 
details.  You  must  take  my  word  for  it  that 
suddenly  four  or  five  young  men  of  great 
families  fled  to  the  Continent;  and  that, 
without  much  publicity  in  the  papers,  there 
was  a  very  miserable  sort  of  scandal  after 
their  flight.  Other  names  were  mentioned 
— but  I  needn't  go  into  that.  It  was  to  the 
interest  of  many  influential  people  to  hush 
the  thing  up,  and  to  some  extent  they  suc 
ceeded.  After  a  while  it  became  even  pos 
sible  for  the  others  to  come  back  to  England 
— there  are  many  ways  of  managing  such 
130 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

matters — but   there  was   one  of  them  who 
never  returned." 

Christian  gazed  into  the  old  man's  face 
with  mute,  piteous  fixity  of  concentra 
tion. 

"This  one,  of  course,"  Lord  Julius  pur 
sued,  picking  his  words  still  more  cautiously, 
and  liking  his  task  less  than  ever,  "was 
your  father.  The  way  was  smoothed  for 
the  rest  to  come  back,  but  not  for  him — 
that  is,  at  first.  Later,  when  he  could  have 
returned,  he  would  not.  Ambrose  had  a 
stubborn  and  bitter  temper.  He  was 
furious  with  his  father,  with  his  family— 
with  all  England.  He  would  touch  none  of 
us.  Why,  I  myself  went  to  Sicily  many 
years  ago — it  was  as  soon  as  I  had  got  back 
from  the  East — and  learned  the  facts,  and 
found  out  what  could  be  done ;  and  I  tried 
to  see  him,  and  bring  him  home  with  me, 
but  he  would  not  speak  with  me,  or  even 

remain   under   the   same    roof    with    me 

and  so  I  could  do  nothing.  Or  yes,  there 
was  one  thing — that  is  to  maintain  some 
kind  of  watch  over  you— after  his  death, 
and  that  we  did.  My  own  idea  was  to  have 
brought  you  over  to  England  years  ago — as 
soon  as  your  mother  died — but  Emanuel 
thought  otherwise." 

He  paused  here  in  his  narrative,  for  the 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

reason  that  his  companion  was  obviously  no 
longer  listening  to  him. 

Christian  had  moved  a  step  or  two  away, 
and  with  a  white,  set  face  was  looking  off 
over  the  hill-tops.  His  profile  showed 
brows  knitted  and  lips  being  bitten,  under 
the  stress  of  an  internal  tempest.  It  seemed 
to  the  old  man  a  long  time  that  he  stood 
thus,  in  dry-eyed,  passionate  battle  with  his 
own  mind.  Then,  with  a  sudden,  decisive 
gesture  he  spread  out  his  hands  and  turned 
impulsively  to  Lord  Julius. 

"You  are  an  old  man,  and  a  wise  one,  and 
you  were  my  father's  friend  and  you  are  my 
friend!"  he  said,  with  trembling  earnest 
ness.  '*!  should  be  a  fool  not  to  pay  heed  to 
what  you  tell  me.  You  advise  that  I  do  not 
mention  my  father  more  than  is  necessary. 
Eh  bien,  I  take  your  advice.  Without  doubt  it 
is  right — just  as  it  is  right  that  I  should  speak 
less  of  my  brother  Salvator.  I  have  remem 
bered  that  since  you  warned  me,  and  now  I 
will  remember  this.  But  I  should  like" — he 
came  forward  as  he  spoke,  still  with  extended 
hands,  and  looked  with  entreating  earnest 
ness  up  into  the  other's  face — * '  I  should  like 
to  have  you  understand  that  Salvator  is  my 
brother  not  any  the  less,  and  that  I  love  and 
honor  and  have  pride  in  my  father  more 
than  before.  This  I  keep  in  my  own  mind, 
132 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

as  you  advise — but  one  thing  I  will  do  for 
every  one  to  take  note  of.  I  will  write  my 
name  always  'Tower.'  " 

The  great-uncle  put  a  big,  comforting  hand 
on  his  shoulder.  "I  should  not  dream  of 
blaming  you,"  he  said,  gently.  "But  there 
is  a  man  to  tell  us  luncheon  is  ready." 

He  nodded  comprehension  to  the  servant 
who  had  appeared  at  the  opening  in  the 
hedge,  and,  still  with  his  hand  on  Christian's 
shoulder,  began  to  move  in  that  direction. 

"One  other  matter,"  said  the  young  man 
in  lowered  tones  and  hurriedly — ''from  the 
hill  above,  awhile  ago,  I  saw  my  grand 
father — in  his  chair,  on  the  balcony.  You 
said  just  now  that  my  father  hated  him — 
was  furious  with  him.  Did  he  behave 
cruelly  to  my  father?" 

"Oh,  no-o,"  replied  Julius,  with  an  indefi 
nite  upward  inflection  on  the  deliberate 
negative.  "Not  cruelly." 

"But  unjustly?" 

"Oh,  no,  not  unjustly,  either — if  only 
because  he  never  in  his  life  possessed  the 
dimmest  inkling  of  what  justice  meant. 
The  duke  is  my  brother,  and  I  know  him 
much  better  than  any  one  else  living,  and  so 
I  am  free  to  speak  frankly  about  him.  He 
has  been  a  duke  nearly  eighty  years — which 
is,  I  believe,  unprecedented— but  he  has 
133 


GLORIA   MUND1 

been  an  ass  still  longer  than  that. ' '  After 
a  pause  he  added:  "I  am  going  to  take  you 
to  him  this  afternoon. ' ' 

Christian  hung  his  head  as  they  walked 
along,  and  framed  in  his  depressed  mind 
more  than  one  further  inquiry  about  this 
grandsire  of  his,  who  held  so  august  a  sta 
tion,  and  yet  had  been  dismissed  so  con 
temptuously,  but  they  did  not  translate 
themselves  into  speech.  Nor,  later,  during 
the  luncheon,  was  this  great  personage 
more  than  indirectly  alluded  to. 

The  way  to  this  luncheon  had  led  through 
three  or  four  large  rooms,  opening  one  upon 
the  other  by  small  doors,  the  immediate  ap 
proaches  to  which  were  given  the  effect  of 
passageways  by  means  of  screens.  What 
these  apartments  were  used  for,  or  how  the 
residents  of  the  castle  distinguished  them 
apart  in  their  own  minds,  Christian  could 
not  imagine.  To  his  rapid  and  curious 
inspection,  they  seemed  all  alike — each 
with  its  bare,  indifferently  polished  floor,  its 
huge  stone  fireplace,  its  wainscoting,  walls 
and  ceiling  of  dark,  umber-hued  wood,  and 
its  scant  store  of  furniture  which  only  height 
ened  the  ruling  impression  of  big  empty 
spaces.  An  occasional  portrait  was  dimly  to 
be  discerned  up  in  the  duskiness  of  the  oak 
panels,  but  the  light  from  the  narrow  and 
i34 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

small-paned  windows  was  too  faint  to  ex 
amine  them  by.  More  cheerless  or  appar 
ently  useless  rooms  the  young  man  had 
never  seen. 

Lord  Julius  seemed  to  guess  his  thoughts. 
"This  is  all  an  old  part — what  might  be 
called  mid-Plantagenet,"  he  explained,  as 
they  went  along.  "My  father  had  these 
rooms  pulled  about  a  good  deal,  and  done  up 
according  to  Georgian  standards,  but  it  was 
time  and  money  wasted.  Even  if  big  win 
dows  were  cut  through  they  would  be  too 
dark  for  comfort,  to  our  notions.  The  men 
who  made  them,  of  course,  cared  nothing  at 
all  about  daylight,  at  least  inside  a  house. 
They  spent  as  little  time  as  possible  under 
roofs,  to  begin  with ;  they  rose  at  daybreak 
and  went  to  bed  at  dark.  When  they  were 
forced  to  be  under  cover,  they  valued  security 
above  all  things,  and  the  fewer  openings 
there  were  in  the  walls,  the  better  they 
liked  it.  They  did  no  reading  whatever, 
but  after  they  had  gorged  themselves  with 
food,  sat  around  the  fire  and  drank  as  much 
as  they  could  hold,  and  listened  to  the  silly 
rubbish  of  their  professional  story-tellers 
and  ballad-singers  till  they  fell  asleep.  If  it 
happened  that  they  wanted  to  gamble  in 
stead,  a  handful  of  rush-lights  or  a  torch  on 
the  wall  was  enough  to  see  the  dice  by. 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

Really,  what  did  they  want  more?     And  for 
that  matter,  what  do  most  of  their  lineal  de- 
dants  want  more  either?    Light  enough 
to  enable  them  to  tell  a  spade  from  a  heart 
and  perhaps  to  decipher  the  label  on  a  bottle 
now  and  then.    Nothing  more.    The  fashion 
of  the  day  builds  plate-glass  windows  round 
them,  but  it  is  truly  a  gross  superfluity  " 

The  room  in  which  Lady  Cressage  and  the 
luncheon-table  awaited  them  was  of  a  more 
hospitable    aspect.      A    broad    expanse    of 
lawn,  and  of  distant  trees  and  sky-line  fad- 
ng  away  in  the  sunny  autumn  haze,  made  a 
luminous   picture    of  the  high   embrasured 
window  stretching  almost   from  corner  to 
Corner  across  one   side.     By  contrast    with 
the    other    apartments,    the  light  here  was 
brilliant.     Christian,    with    a    little    apolo 
getic     bow     and     gesture     to    the    others, 
dallied    before  the   half-dozen  portraits  on 
•  walls,  examined    the   modeling  of  the 
Blackened    oak     panels    about    them,    and 
lingered  in  admiring  scrutiny  of  the  great 
carved  chimney-piece  above  the  cavernous 
hearth,   on   which   a  fire   of    logs   crackled 
pleasantly.     This  chimney-piece  was  fairly 
architectural  in  its  dimensions.     It  was  as 
full  of  detail,  and  seemed  almost  as  big  as 
the  west  front  of  a  church,  and  he  tipped'his 
head  back  to  look  up  at  its  intricate,  yet 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

flowing  scheme  of  scrollwork,  its  heraldic 
symbolism  used  now  for  decoration,  now  to 
point  the  significance,  as  it  were,  of  the  cen 
tral  escutcheon — and  all  in  old  wood  of  so 
ripe  a  nut-brown  color  that  one  seemed  to 
catch  a  fragrance  exhaled  from  it. 

4 'That  is  the  best  thing  here,"  said  Edith 
Cressage,  moving  over  to  stand  beside  him. 
"It  came  from  Ludlow  Castle.  Those  are 
the  arms  of  the  Mortimers.  It  is  the 
Mortimers,  isn't  it?"  She  turned  to  Lord 
Julius  for  support.  "I  always  confuse  them 
with  the  De  Lacys. ' ' 

"Yes,  the  Mortimers,"  answered  Julius, 
as  servants  entered,  and  they  took  their 
seats.  "But  almost  every  other  family  of 
the  Marches  is  represented  in  the  devices 
scattered  about.  You  can  see  the  arrows  of 
the  Egertons,  the  eagles  of  the  Grandisons, 
and  up  above,  the  corbies  or  ravens  of  the 
Corbets,  and  so  on.  That  was  the  period 
when  the  Marches  ruled  England,  and  their 
great  families,  all  married  and  intermarried 
and  bolstered  up  by  the  feudal  structure, 
were  like  a  nation  by  themselves.  The 
Mortimers,  you  know, ' '  he  added,  turning  to 
Christian,  "became  practically  kings  of 
England.  At  least  they  had  their  grand 
sons  on  the  throne — but  they  couldn't  hold 
it  after  they  had  got  it.  The  day  of  these 
137 


GLORIA  MUNDI 

parts  was  really  over  before  Bosworth  Field. 
The  printing  press  and  Protestantism  fin 
ished  the  destruction  of  its  nobility.  Only 
a  house  here  and  there  has  survived  among 
us.  Some  few  of  the  old  names  are  pre 
served,  like  flies  in  amber,  over  in  Ireland, 
but  I  should  not  know  where  to  look  to-day 
for  a  De  Lacy,  or  a  Tregoz,  or  a  west 
country  Le  Strange,  let  alone  a  Mortimer. 
I  suppose,  in  fact,  we  have  more  of  the  Mor 
timer  blood  among  us  than  there  is  any 
where  else." 

Christian,  seated  so  that  he  faced  the  great 
armorial  pageant  spread  as  a  background  to 
the  fair  head  of  the  lady,  smiled  wistfully  at 
his  companions,  but  said  nothing.  The 
words  abotit  his  sharing  the  blood  of  kings 
were  like  some  distant,  soft  music  in  his 
ears.  He  looked  at  the  escutcheons  and 
badges,  and  sought  in  a  dreamy  way  to 
familiarize  himself  with  the  fact  that  they 
were  a  part  of  his  own  history — that  the 
grandeur  they  told  of  was  in  truth  his  per 
sonal  heritage. 

There  was  some  talk  going  on  between 
the  others — conversation  which,  for  a  time, 
he  scarcely  strove  to  follow.  Lord  Julius 
had  begun  by  expressing  his  joy  at  the 
absence  from  luncheon  of  the  physician 
whom  circumstances  kept  on  the  premises, 
138 


GLORIA    MUNDI 

and  from  this  he  drifted  to  an  attack  upon 
doctors  as  a  class.  He  denounced  them 
root  and  branch,  as  impostors  and  parasites, 
who  darkened  and  embittered  human  life  by 
fostering  all  the  mean  cowardices  of  small- 
brained  people,  in  order  that  they  might 
secure  a  dishonest  livelihood  by  pretending 
to  dispel  the  horrors  their  own  low  tricks 
had  conjured  up.  .  The  robust  old  gentleman 
developed  these  violent  theories  without  heat 
or  any  trace  of  excitement,  and  even  main 
tained  a  genial  expression  of  countenance 
while  he  spoke.  Lady  Cressage  seemed 
entertained,  and  even  helped  on  the  diatribe 
now  and  again  with  pertinent  quips  of  her 
own.  But  Christian  could  see  very  little 
sense  in  such  an  assault  upon  a  respect 
able  profession,  and  his  attention  wandered 
willingly  again  to  the  splendid  chimney- 
piece.  He  resolved  to  learn  all  there  was  to 
learn  of  the  heraldry  and  local  history 
embodied  in  this  sumptuous  decoration, 
without  delay.  But  then,  on  every  conceiv 
able  side  there  was  so  much  to  learn ! 

Suddenly  he  became  aware  that  his 
thoughts  had  concentrated  themselves  on 
the  extraordinary  badness  of  the  luncheon 
he  was  eating.  Here  at  least -was  some 
thing  Caermere  could  not  teach  him  about— 
nor,  for  that  matter,  as  it  seemed,  all  Eng- 
139 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

land  either.  Since  his  arrival  in  the  coun 
try,  he  reflected,  he  had  not  encountered 
one  even  tolerable  dish.  Vegetables  and 
fish  half  raw,  meats  tasteless  and  without 
sauce  or  seasoning,  bread  heavy  and  sour, 
coffee  unrecognizable,  the  pastry  a  thing 
too  ridiculous  for  words — so  his  indictment 
shaped  itself.  He  felt  it  his  duty  to  argue 
to  himself  that  quite  likely  this  graceless 
and  repellent  diet  was  the  very  thing  which 
made  the  English  such  physical  and  tempera 
mental  masters  of  the  world,  but  the  effort 
left  him  sad.  He  made  a  resolution  that  if 
ever  Caermere  were  his  a  certain  white- 
capped  Agostino,  in  Cannes,  should  be 
imported  forthwith.  Then  he  became  con 
scious  again  of  what  was  being  said  at  the 
table. 

"If  you  could  only  imagine,"  Lady  Cres- 
sage  was  saying  to  Lord  Julius,  "what  a 
boon  your  coming  has  been!  I  had  posi 
tively  almost  forgotten  what  intelligent  con 
versation  was  like.  It  seems  ages  since  I 
last  heard  ten  consecutive  words  strung 
together  on  a  thought  of  any  description. 
Let  me  see — it  was  June  when  you  were  last 
down,  with  Sir  Benjamin  Alstead;  he  has 
been  here  once  since — but  in  your  absence 
he  put  on  such  a  pompous  'eminent-physi 
cian'  manner  that  really  I  oughtn't  to  count 
140 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

him  at  all — and  with  that  exception,  from 
June  to  October,  civilization  has  left  poor 
me  entirely  out  of  its  reckoning.  But  per 
haps'  ' — they  had  risen  now,  and  there  was  a 
certain  new  frankness,  almost  confidence  of 
appeal  in  her  glance  into  his  face — "per 
haps,  as  matters  have  turned,  you  will  come 
oftener  henceforth?" 

Lord  Julius  nodded.  "It  is  quite  likely," 
he  said,  and  stretched  forth  his  hand  sig 
nificantly  to  Christian's  shoulder.  "But 
you  were  going  to  show  him  the  house — and 
I  suppose  I  may  come  along  too.  There  is 
half  an  hour  before  we  go  to  my  brother — 
and  our  train  does  not  leave  Clune  till  nearly 
six." 

"You  are  not  going  to-day!  and  he  too?" 
she  exclaimed,  hurriedly. 

The  old  man  nodded  again.  "We  are 
expected  at  Emanuel's  to-night,"  he 
answered.  Then,  as  Christian  had  moved 
toward  the  window  and  seemed  beyond  hear 
ing,  he  added,  in  a  smiling  aside,  "There  is 
one  reason  for  dragging  him  away  that  is 
comical  enough.  It  wouldn't  do  for  him  to 
dine  at  Caermere  in  morning  clothes,  and  so 
far  as  I  can  see  he  has  no  others." 

"He  could  be  too  tired  to  dine,"  she  sug 
gested,   quickly,   in  a  confidential  murmur. 
"Or,  for  that  matter,  there  is  a  room  full  of 
141 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

Porlock's  things — I  suppose — I  suppose  poor 
Cressage's — would  be  too  big  for  him.  Oh, 
it's  too  dreadful  to  have  him  whisked  off 
like  this!  Can't  you  send  a  telegram 
instead?" 

Her  tone  was  as  frank  as  her  speech — and 
on  the  instant  her  glance  at  his  face  made 
keen  inquiry  whether  it  had  not  been  too 
frank. 

He  smiled  in  a  tolerant,  almost  amused 
way.  "Oh,  he  will  return  all  in  good  time, ' ' 
he  assured  her,  gently  enough.  "Caermere 
will  see  plenty  of  him,  later  on." 

"Yes,  but  who  can  tell  where  I  shall  be 
then?"  The  necessity  for  speaking  in  an 
undertone  gave  her  words  an  added  in 
tensity  of  feeling.  "And  it  isn't  only  him — 
I  had  hoped  you  would  be  stopping  some 
days  at  least — for  I  wanted  to  speak  with 
you  about  this  very  thing.  My  position 
here — the  uncertainty  of  everything  —  is 
intolerable  to  bear."  She  lifted  her  head, 
and  turned  her  direct  gaze  into  his  eyes. 
* '  If  only  you  liked  me  a  little  better,  I  could 
discuss  the  matter  more  freely  with  you." 

"Humbug!"  replied  Lord  Julius,  with  a 
geniality  which  was  at  least  superficially 
reassuring.  "You  shouldn't  say  such 
things,  much  less  think  them.  I  can  under 
stand  your  impatience — but  it  will  be  pos- 
142 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

sible  to  straighten  out  affairs  very  soon  now. 
I  don't  think  you  will  be  found  to  have 
suffered  by  the  delay. ' ' 

"Oh,  that  is  all  right,"  she  answered, 
almost  pettishly.  "Everybody  assures  me 
of  the  most  magnanimous  intentions — but 
in  the  meantime" — she  checked  herself, 
tossed  her  head  in  resentment,  apparently, 
at  the  tears  which  had  started  to  her  eyes, 
and  forced  herself  to  smile— "in  the  mean 
time,  you  must  forgive  my  tantrums.  It  is 
so  depressing  here— all  alone— or  worse 
than  alone!  I'm  really  no  longer  fit  to 
receive  anybody.  But  now"— she  raised 

her  voice  in  an  eager  simulation  of  gaiety 

"shall     the     personally      conducted     tour 
begin?" 

Caermere  had  been  inaccessible  to  so  many 
generations  of  sightseers  that  no  formula 
for  its  exhibition  remained.  The  party 
seemed  to  Christian  to  wander  at  haphaz 
ard  through  an  interminable  succession  of 
rooms,  many  of  them  small,  some  of  them 
what  he  could  only  think  of  as  over-large, 
but  all  insufficiently  lighted,  and  all  sug 
gesting  in  their  meager  appointments  and 
somber  dejection  of  aspect  a  stage  of  exist 
ence  well  along  on  the  downward  path  to 
ruin.  He  had  only  to  look  about  him  to 
perceive  why  Caermere  had  long  ago  been 
i43 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

removed  from  the  list  of  England's  show- 
places.  His  companions  between  them  kept 
his  attention  busy  with  comments  upon  the 
history  and  purpose  of  the  apartments  they 
passed  through,  but  beyond  a  general  sense 
of  futile  and  rather  shabby  immensity  he 
gained  very  little  from  the  inspection.  The 
mood  to  postpone  comprehension  of  what 
he  was  seeing  to  another  and  a  more  con 
venient  time  was  upon  him,  and  he  almost 
willfully  yielded  to  it. 

Once,  when  impulse  prompted  him  to 
climb  a  little  ladder-like  staircase,  and  push 
open  a  door  from  which  the  black  dust  fell 
in  a  shower,  and  he  discerned  in  the  gloom 
of  the  attic  chamber  piles  of  armor  and 
ancient  weapons,  a  thrill  of  fleeting  excite 
ment  ran  through  his  veins. 

"They  say  that  Prince  Llewelyn's  armor  is 
there,  "called  up  Lord  Julius  from  the  land 
ing  below.  "Some  day  we  will  have  it  all 
out,  and  cleaned  and  furbished  up.  But 
don't  go  in  now!  You'll  get  covered  with 
dirt.  I  used  to  venture  in  there  and  rum 
mage  about  once  in  a  while  when  I  was  a 
boy,"  he  added  as  Christian  came  down. 
"But  even  then  one  came  out  black  as  a 
sweep. ' ' 

There  were  fine  broad  stretches  of  rugged 
landscape  to  be  seen  here  and  there  from 
144 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

narrow  casements  in  the  older,  higher  parts 
they  were  now  traversing,  and  occasionally 
Christian  was  able  to  interest  himself  as  well 
in  details  of  primitive,  half-obliterated 
ornamentation  over  arches  and  doorways  of 
early  periods,  but  he  was  none  the  less 
almost  glad  when  they  came  out  at  last  into 
a  spacious  upper  hallway,  and  halted  in  tacit 
token  that  the  journey  was  at  an  end. 

"Now  I  will  leave  you,"  said  the  lady, 
with  lifted  skirt  and  a  foot  poised  tentatively 
over  the  first  step  of  the  broad  descending 
stairs.  "I  shall  have  tea  in  the  conservatory 
when  you  come  down." 

Christian  felt  that  something  must  be  said. 
"It  has  all  been  very  wonderful  to  me,"  he 
assured  her.  "lam  afraid  I  did  not  seem 
very  appreciative — biit  that  is  because  the 
place  is  too  huge,  too  vast,  to  be  understood 
quite  at  once.  And  I  am  so  new  to  it  all— 
you  will  understand  what  I  mean.  But  I 
thank  you  very  much. " 

She  smiled  brightly  on  him  and  nodded  to 
them  both,  and  passed  down  the  stairway. 
Christian  was  all  at  once  conscious,  as  his 
eyes  followed  her,  that  there  was  a  novel 
quickening  or  fluttering  of  his  heart's  action. 
For  a  brief  second,  the  sensation  somehow 
linked  itself  in  his  thoughts  with  the  tall, 
graceful  figure  receding  from  him,  and  he 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

bent  forward  to  grasp  more  fully  the  picture 
she  made,  moving  sedately  along,  with  a 
hand  like  a  lily  on  the  wide  black  rail. 
Then  he  suddenly  became  aware  that  this 
was  an  error,  and  that  he  was  trembling 
instead  because  the  moment  for  confronting 
his  grandfather  had  come. 

Lord  Julius,  indeed,  had  already  opened  a 
massive  mahogany  door  at  the  right  of  the 
stairs,  and  signaled  to  him  now  to  follow. 


146 


CHAPTER    VII 

What  Christian  first  perceived  about  the 
duke's  apartments  was  that  they  had  an  odor 
quite  peculiar  to  themselves.     The  series  of 
small  and  badly  lighted  anterooms  through 
which  he  followed  Lord  Julius — rooms  with 
pallet-beds,  clothes  hung  against  the  walls, 
and  other  somewhat  squalid  signs  of  domes 
tic  occupation — were  full  of  this   curiously 
distinctive  smell.     It  was  not  so  obvious  in 
the     larger     and     better-lighted     chamber 
beyond,  which  the  doctor  in  residence  had 
converted  to  his  own  uses,  and  where  he  sat 
now  reading  a  book,  merely  rising  momen 
tarily  to  bow  as  they  passed.      But  in  the 
next  room — the  big  sleeping  apartment,  with 
its    faded     pretensions     of     stateliness     of 
appointment,  and  its  huge,  high-posted  bed, 
canopied  by  old  curtains  embroidered  with 
heraldic  devices  in  tarnished  gilt  threads — 
the   odor   was   more    powerful    than    ever, 
despite  the  fact  that  a  broad  window-door 
was  open  upon  the  balcony  beyond.      The 
young  man's  keen  sense  was  baffled  by  this 
pervasive  scent — compounded  as  it  seemed 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

to  be  of  all  the  ancient  castle's  mustiness,  of 
sharp  medicinal  vapors  and  of  something 
else  at  once  familiar  and  unknown.  He 
sniffed  inquiringly  at  it,  as  they  neared  the 
window,  and  apparently  Lord  Julius  heard 
him,  for  he  remarked  over  his  shoulder: 

"It  is  the  dogs  that  you  smell.  They've 
practically  removed  the  kennel  up  here." 

On  the  stone  floor  of  the  balcony  outside 
there  were  to  be  seen,  indeed,  some  dozen 
old  hounds,  for  the  most  part  lying  sleepily 
in  the  sunshine,  with  their  heads  pointed 
toward  a  large,  half-covered  reclining  chair 
placed  near  the  balustrade,  and  occasionally 
opening  a  drowsy  eye  to  regard  its  occupant. 
There  were  a  few  dogs  of  other  kinds  as 
well,  Christian  noted  upon  a  second  glance, 
and  one  of  these,  a  bulky  black  creature 
with  a  broad  snout  and  hair  curled  tight 
like  astrakhan  fur,  sat  close  to  the  chair  and 
was  thrusting  its  muzzle  against  a  hand  at 
its  side. 

This  hand  was  what  Christian  saw  first  of 
his  grandfather — an  immense  limp  hand, 
with  thick  fingers  twisted  and  misshapen,  and 
skin  of  an  almost  greenish  pallor.  The 
dog's  nose,  thrust  under  it,  moved  this  inert 
hand  about,  and  the  young  man  felt  himself 
thrill  unpleasantly,  for  some  reason,  at  the 
spectacle. 

148 


GLORIA  MUNDI 

At  the  further  end  of  the  balcony  two  men 
in  livery  lounged  against  the  wall,  but  upon 
a  signal  from  Lord  Julius  they  went  in. 
The  latter,  threading  his  way  among  the 
hounds,  led  Christian  round  to  the  side  of 
the  chair. 

"This  is  Ambrose's  boy,"  he  said,  bend 
ing  a  little  and  raising  his  voice.  "He  is 
Christian,  too." 

Upon  the  chair  was  stretched,  in  a  half- 
sitting  posture,  the  gigantic  frame  of  a  very 
old  man.  The  grandson  looked  upon  him 
in  silence  for  a  long  time,  his  mind  confused 
with  many  impressions.  The  vast  shoulders 
and  high,  bullet-like  head,  propped  up  by 
pillows  in  the  partial  shadow  of  the  hood, 
seemed  vaguely  to  recall  the  vision  his  baby 
memory  had  preserved  of  his  own  father. 
But  in  detail  there  was  no  resemblance.  Or 
yes,  there  were  resemblances,  but  they  were 
blurred  almost  beyond  recognition  by  the 
rough  touch  of  time.  The  face,  with  its 
big,  harsh  features  and  bushing  brows,  and 
its  frame  of  stiff  white  whiskers  under  the 
jaws  and  chin,  had  something  in  it  which  for 
an  instant  the  young  man  seemed  to 
identify;  then  the  unnatural  effect  of  its  uni 
form  yellow-clay  color  drove  all  thoughts  of 
its  human  relationships  from  his  mind,  and 
he  saw  nothing  but  a  meaningless  mask.  It 
149 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

was  as  devoid  of  significance,  indeed,  as  if  it 
had  been  in  a  coffin.     The  eyes  were  open 
and  they  seemed  to  be  fixed  upon  the  distant 
rolling  prospect     of  hills   and    forest,    but 
whether  they  were  seeing  anything,   Chris 
tian  could  not  imagine.     They  certainly  had 
not    been  turned    to  include    him  in   their 
survey.     The  livid  right  hand,  swaying  as 
the  black  dog  pushed  it  with  its  nose,  was 
the  only  thing  about  the  duke  that  moved. 
' '  He  does  not  know  I  am  here, ' '  said  Chris 
tian,  at  last.     He  spoke    instinctively,  with 
the  ceremonious    affectation  of  awe  which 
one  puts  on  in  the  presence  of  death.     His 
grandfather  hardly  impressed  him  as  being 
alive  and  still  less  made  any  appeal  to  his 
sense  of  kinship.     He  had  expected  to  be 
overwhelmed  with  emotion  at  the  meeting, 
but  he  found  himself  barely  interested.     His 
wandering  glance  chanced  to  take  note  of 
some   of  the   dogs'    faces  about   the   chair. 
They  were  all  alertly  watching  him,  and  the 
profoundly  wise  look  in  their  eyes  caught  his 
attention.      No  doubt   they   were   dreadful 
fools,  if  the  truth  could  be  known,  but  the 
suggestion  of  cultured  sagacity  in  their  gaze 
was  extraordinary.     He  looked  back  again 
at  his  grandfather,  and  tried  to  say  to  him 
self  that  he  was  a  great  noble,  the  head  of 
an  ancient  and  proud  line,   and  the  actual 
150 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

father  of  his  father — but  the  effort  failed  to 
spur  his  fancy.  He  turned  to  Lord  Julius 
and  lifted  his  brows  in  wearied  interro 
gation. 

"Move  round  in  front  of  him,"  counseled 
the  other.  "Get  yourself  in  the  range  of 
his  eyes." 

Christian  obeyed,  and,  flushing  a  little 
with  self-consciousness,  strove  to  intercept 
the  aged  man's  gaze.  There  was  no  change 
upon  the  ashen  face  under  the  hood  to  tell 
him  whether  he  had  succeeded  or  not.  The 
impulse  to  grimace,  to  wave  his  arms  about, 
to  compel  attention  by  any  wild  and  violent 
device,  forced  him  to  smile  in  the  midst  of 
his  perplexed  constraint.  He  stared  for  a 
few  moments  longer  at  the  gaunt,  immovable 
figure — then  shrugged  his  shoulders,  and, 
stepping  over  a  dog  or  two,  made  bold  to 
rejoin  Lord  Julius. 

"I  do  not  see  that  it  is  of  any  use,"  he 
said,  with  annoyance.  "If  you  wish  to  go, 
I  am  quite  ready. ' ' 

Lord  Julius  lifted  his  brows  in  turn,  and 
looked  at  his  grand-nephew  with  curiosity. 
"I  said  nothing  about  going,  that  I  recall," 
he  began,  with  an  effect  of  reproof  in  his 
tone.  But  then  he  seemed  to  think  better 
of  it,  and  gave  an  abrupt  little  laugh.  "It 
isn't  very  invigorating,  I'm  bound  to  admit," 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

he  confessed,  cheerfully  enough.  "Wait  a 
moment,  and  I'll  stir  him  tip  a  bit." 

He  bent  forward  again,  with  his  head  at 
the  edge  of  the  hood,  and  shouted  into  it: 
"If  you  want  to  see  Ambrose's  boy,  here  he 
is!  If  you  don't  want  to  see  him,  say  so, 
and  waste  no  more  of  our  time!" 

To  Christian's  surprise,  the  duke  took 
instant  cognizance  of  this  remark.  His 
large  face  brightened,  or  at  least  altered  its 
aspect,  into  something  like  animation;  his 
eyes  emerged  from  their  cover  of  lethargy, 
and  looked  alive. 

"My  back  is  very  bad  to-day,"  he 
remarked,  in  a  voice  which,  though  it  bore 
the  querulous  note  of  the  invalid,  was  unex 
pectedly  robust  in  volume.  "And  I  cannot 
make  out  whether  the  numbness  is  passing 
down  below  my  knee  or  not." 

Lord  Julius  nodded,  as  if  confirming  to 
himself  some  previous  suspicion.  "I 
thought  as  much,"  he  commented  in  an 
aside  to  the  yoiing  man.  "It's  merely  his 
endearing  little  way.  Have  patience,  and 
we'll  draw  the  badger  yet." 

He  bawled  once  more  into  the  hood,  with 
an  added  peremptoriness  of  tone:  "I 
explained  it  all  to  you,  hours  ago,  and  I'm 
sure  you  understand  it  perfectly.  Christian 
naturally  wished  to  pay  his  respects  to  you, 
152 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

but  if  your  back  is  too  bad,  why,  there's  no 
more  to  be  said — and  we'll  be  off.  Good 
bye  to  you!" 

"Did  I  know  his  mother?  Who  was  his 
mother?  I  have  no  recollection  of  her." 
The  duke  spoke  peevishly,  twitching  his 
sunken  lips  in  what  was  plainly  an  effort  to 
pout  them.  Christian  noted  with  curiosity 
that  as  he  surrendered  himself  to  such 
mental  exertion  as  the  talk  demanded,  the 
aged  man's  face  grew  disagreeably  senile  in 
effect.  An  infinity  of  gossamer-like  wrinkles 
showed  themselves  now,  covering  the  entire 
countenance  in  a  minute  network. 

"No,  you  didn't  know  his  mother!"  replied 
Lord  Julius,  with  significant  curtness.  "It 
is  more  to  the  point  that  you  should  know 
him,  since  he  is  to  be  your  successor.  Look 
at  him — and  say  something  to  him!" 

The  duke  managed  to  testify  on  his  stiff 
ened  lineaments  the  reluctance  with  which 
he  did  what  he  was  told,  but  he  shifted  his 
eyes  in  a  sidelong  fashion  to  take  a  brief 
survey  of  the  young  man.  "Cressage  could 
have  given  you  five  stone  ten,"  he  said  to 
him,  brusquely,  and  turned  his  eyes  away. 

Christian  cast  a  look  of  bewildered  inquiry 

up  at  Lord  Julius,  but  encountered  only  a 

smile    of    contemptuous    amusement.       He 

summoned  the  courage  to  declare,  in  a  voice 

153 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

which  he  hoped  was  loud  enough:  "I  am 
glad  to  hear,  sir,  that  this  is  one  of  your 
good  days.  I  hope  you  will  have  many  more 
of  them!" 

Of  this  assurance  His  Grace  seemingly 
took  no  note.  After  a  short  pause  he  began 
speaking  again.  "There's  a  dog  up  here," 
he  said,  with  the  gravity  befitting  a  subject 
to  which  he  had  given  much  thought,  "that 
I'm  sure  falls  asleep,  and  yelps  in  her 
dreams,  and  disturbs  me  most  damnably, 
and  I  believe  it's  that  old  bitch  Peggy,  and 
when  I  mention  it  the  fellows  swear  that 
she's  been  taken  away,  but  I  suspect  that 
she  hasn't." 

"We  will  look  to  it,"  put  in  Lord  Julius 
perfunctorily.  He  added,  upon  an  after 
thought,  "Did  the  guns  annoy  you,  this  fore 
noon?" 

The  duke's  thoughts  were  upon  something 
else.  He  turned  his  eyes  again,  and  appar 
ently  spoke  to  Christian.  "A  good  hearty 
cut  across  the  face  with  a  whip,"  he  said, 
with  kindling  energy,  "is  what'd  teach 
swine  like  Griffiths  their  place — and  then 
let  'em  summons  you  and  be  damned.  A 
farmer  who  puts  up  barbed- wire — no  gentle 
man  would  listen  to  his  evidence  for  a  min 
ute.  Treat  them  like  the  vermin  they  are — 
and  they'll  understand  that.  Cressage  had 
i54 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

the  proper  trick  with  them — a  kick  in  the 
stomach  first  and  reasons  afterward.  That's 
the  only  way  this  country  can  be  hunted. 
When  I  got  to  riding  over  eighteen  stone, 
and  couldn't  take  anything,  that  ruffian 
Griffiths  screwed  up  his  gates  and  sent  me 
round  the  turnpike  like  a  damned  peddler, 
and  Ambrose — it  was  Ambrose,  wasn't  it?— 
or  am  I  thinking  of  Cressage?  But  they 
weren't  together — here,  Julius!  It  was  you 
who  were  speaking  of  Ambrose!  What 
about  him?  By  God,  I  wish  he  had  my 
back!" 

Lord  Julius,  with  the  smile  in  his  beard 
hardening  toward  scorn,  took  Christian  by 
the  arm.  "I  think  you've  had  enough 
grandfather  to  go  on  with,"  he  said,  quietly. 
"Never  mind  making  your  adieux.  They 
would  be  quite  wasted  on  him." 

Without  further  words,  they  turned  and 
moved  away  through  the  dogs  to  the  win 
dow,  and  so  into  the  house.  The  doctor, 
still  at  his  book,  rose  once  more  upon  their 
approach,  and  this  time  Lord  Julius  halted 
to  speak  with  him. 

"His  Grace  seems  to  ramble  in  his  mind  a 
good  deal  more  than  he  did  before  luncheon. 
Do  you  see  a  change  in  this  respect— say 
week  by  week?" 

4 'It  is  not  observable  in  gradations,  Lord 

155 


GLORIA   MUNDl 

Julius,"  answered  the  physician,  a  stout, 
sandy  young  man,  who  assumed  his  air  of 
deference  with  considerable  awkwardness; 
"sometimes  he  recovers  a  very  decided 
lucidity  after  what  had  seemed  to  be  a  pro 
longed  lapse  in  the  other  direction.  But  on 
the  whole  I  should  say  there  was  a  per 
ceptible — well,  loss  of  faculty.  He  knows 
the  dogs,  however,  quite  as  well  as  ever — 
distinguishes  them  apparently  by  touch, 
remembers  all  their  names,  and  recalls 
anecdotes  about  them,  and,  very  often, 
about  their  mothers  too.  Fletcher  tells  me 
His  Grace  hasn't  once  miscalled  a  hound." 

"They  make  an  abominable  atmosphere  up 
here, ' '  commented  the  other. 

The  doctor  smiled  lugubriously.  "I  can't 
deny  that,  Lord  Julius,"  he  replied,  "but  all 
the  same  they  are  the  most  important  part 
of  the  treatment.  If  we  took  them  away, 
His  Grace  would  die  within  the  week." 

"Unhappy  dogs!"  mused  Lord  Julius, 
partly  to  himself,  and  walked  on.  It  was 
not  until  they  were  half-way  down  the  big 
staircase  that  Christian  felt  impelled  to 
speak. 

"I  should  much  like  to  know,"  he  began, 

with  diffident  eagerness — "you  have  already 

spoken  so  plainly   about  my  grandfather — 

the  question  will  not  seem  rude  to  him,  I 

156 


GLORIA  MUNDI 

hope — but  when  he  was  well,  before  the 
paralysis,  was  he  in  any  respect  like  what  he 
is  now?" 

"I  should  say,"  answered  Lord  Julius, 
in  a  reflective  way,  "that  he  is  at  present 
rather  less  objectionable  than  formerly. 
One  can  make  the  excuse  of  illness  for  him 
now — and  that  covers  a  multitude  of  sins. 
But  when  he  was  in  health — and  he  had  the 
superb — what  shall  I  say? — riotous  health  of 
a  whale — he  was  very  hard  to  bear.  You 
have  seen  him  and  you  have  observed  his 
mental  and  moral  elevation.  He  remembers 
his  dogs  more  distinctly  than  he  does  his 
children.  In  the  Almanach  de  Gotha  he  is 
classed  among  princes,  but  what  he  dwells 
upon  most  fondly  among  his  public  duties  is 
the  kicking  of  tenant-farmers  in  the  stomach 
when  they  try  to  save  their  crops  from 
being  ruined  by  the  hunt.  I  may  tell  you,  I 
was  in  two  minds  about  taking  you  to  him 
at  all,  and  now  I  think  I  regret  having  done 
so." 

'  *  No-o, ' '  said  Christian,  thoughtfully.  *  *  It 
is  better  as  it  is.  I  am  glad  to  have  seen 
him,  and  to  have  you  tell  me  about  him, 
frankly,  as  you  have  done.  It  all  helps  me 
to  understand  the  position — and  it  seems 
that  there  is  a  great  deal  that  needs  to  be 
understood.  I  can  see  already  that  there  is 
15? 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

strange  blood  in  the  Torrs."  He  paused  on 
the  bottom  step  as  he  spoke,  and  turned  to 
his  companion  with  a  wistful  smile.  "There 
is  an  even  bolder  question  I  should  like  to 
ask — how  does  it  happen  that  you  are  so 
different?  How  do  you  account  for  your 
self?" 

Lord  Julius  laughed.  "Oh,  that  is  a  long 
story, "he  said,  "but  I  can  put  it  into  a 
word  for  you.  I  was  made  by  my  wife.  I 
married  a  woman  so  noble  and  clever  and 
wise  and  strong  that  I  couldn't  help  becom 
ing  a  decent  sort  of  fellow  in  spite  of  myself. 
But  I  am  going  to  talk  to  you  about  all  that, 
later  on.  It  is  better  worth  talking  about 
than  anything  else  under  the  sun.  Oh — 
Barlow,  please!" 

The  old  butler  had  passed  from  one  door 
to  another  in  the  hall,  and  turned  now  as  he 
was  called,  with  a  hand  behind  him  upon  the 
knob.  Lord  Julius,  approaching,  exchanged 
some  words  with  him  upon  the  subject  of  his 
afternoon's  plans. 

Christian,  watching  this  venerable  servant 
with  curiosity,  as  a  type  novel  to  his  experi 
ence,  discovered  suddenly  that  his  scrutiny 
was  being  returned.  Barlow,  while  listen 
ing  attentively  and  with  decorously  slow 
nods  of  comprehension  to  what  was  being 
said  to  him,  had  his  eyes  fixed  aslant,  beyond 
158 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

his  interlocutor's  shoulder,  upon  the  young 
stranger.  Christian  encountered  this  gaze, 
and  saw  it  waver  and  flutter  aside,  as  from 
force  of  polite  habit,  and  then  creep  back 
again.  This  happened  more  than  once,  and 
Christian  began,  to  feel  that  it  had  some 
meaning.  He  observed  that  the  butler 
inclined  his  head  at  last  and  whispered 
something — his  pale,  wan  old  face  showed 
it  to  be  an  inquiry — into  the  other's  ear. 
The  action  explained  itself  so  perfectly  that 
Christian  was  in  no  way  surprised  to  see 
Lord  Julius  turn  smilingly,  and  nod  toward 
himself. 

"Yes,  he  is  Ambrose's  son,"  he  said. 
"He  has  come  to  take  his  place.  I  know 
you  for  one  won't  be  sorry — eh,  Barlow?" 

It  was  clear  to  the  young  man's  percep 
tions  that  Lord  Julius  spoke  as  to  one  who 
was  a  friend  as  well  as  a  servant.  The  note 
of  patriarchal  kindness  in  the  tone  appealed 
gratefully  to  him,  and  the  affectionate  men 
tion  of  his  father's  name  was  sweet  in  his 
ears.  A  strange  thrill  of  emotion,  a  kind  of 
aimless  yet  profound  yearning,  possessed 
him  as  he  moved  forward.  On  the  instant 
he  realized  that  this  was  how  he  had  ex 
pected  to  feel  in  the  presence  of  his  grand 
father.  The  fact  that  the  tenderness  within 
him  was  appealed  to  instead  by  this  gentle, 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

sad-eyed  old  family  dependant  seemed  to 
him  to  have  something  beautiful  and  very 
touching  in  it.  Tears  came  into  his  eyes. 

"You  remember  my  father,  then,"  he 
said,  and  the  breaking  of  his  voice  carried 
him  into  the  heart  of  this  sudden  new  mood 
of  self-abandonment.  "You  would  have 
known  him  as  a  little  child — yes? — and  you 
— you — "  he  paused,  to  dash  away  the  tears 
with  his  hand,  and  strive  to  regain  some  con 
trol  over  his  facial  muscles — "you  will  have 
in  your  memory  the  good  things  about  him 
— the  boyish,  pleasant  things — and  you  loved 
him  for  them,  did  you  not?" 

Old  Barlow,  trembling  greatly,  and  with 
a  faint  flush  upon  his  white  cheeks,  stared 
confusedly  at  the  young  man  as  he  ad 
vanced.  "I  held  him  on  his  first  pony,  sir," 
he  stammered  forth,  and  then  shook  his 
head  in  token  that  he  could  utter  no  more. 
His  glistening  eyes  said  the  rest. 

Christian  flung  his  arms  round  the  sur 
prised  old  man's  neck,  and  kissed  him  on 
both  cheeks,  and  then,  with  head  bowed 
upon  his  shoulder,  sobbed  aloud. 


160 


PART   II 


CHAPTER    VIII 

The  music  of  a  spirited  and  tireless  band 
of  robins  helped  Christian  to  wake  next 
morning-.  The  character  of  their  cheerful 
racket  defined  itself  very  slowly  to  his 
drowsy  consciousness.  He  lay  for  a  long 
time  with  closed  eyes,  listening  to  it,  and 
letting  his  mind  drift  quite  at  random  among 
the  thoughts  which  it  suggested.  He  knew 
they  were  robins  because  his  hostess  had  said 
he  would  hear  them;  he  lazily  pictured  to 
himself  the  tiny  red-breasts  gathered  in  the 
shrubbery  outside,  in  obedience  to  some 
mysterious  signal  of  hers,  and  singing  to 
order  thus  briskly  and  unwearyingly  to  make 
good  her  promise. 

In  what  gay,  high  spirits  the  little  fellow 
sang!  The  sun  must  be  shining,  to  account 
for  so  much  happiness.  He  accepted  the 
idea  with  a  sense  of  profound  pleasure,  and 
appropriated  it  to  his  own  wonderful  case. 
161 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

For  him,  it  was  as  if  happiness  had  never 
existed  before. 

"  '  Wilt  thou  have  music?    Hark !    Apollo  plays, 
And  twenty  cag£d  nightingales  do  sing.'  " 

He  murmured  the  lines  in  indolent  reverie, 
then  opened  his  eyes,  and  smiled  to  think 
where  he  was,  and  what  he  had  become  a 
part  of.  Lifting  himself  on  his  elbow,  he 
looked  about  him.  The  beauties  of  the 
apartment  had  not  been  lost  upon  him  the 
previous  evening.  He  had  carried  them 
with  him  in  vague  processional  magnificence 
on  his  devious  march  through  dreamland ;  he 
surveyed  them  again  now  in  the  morning 
light,  rising  after  a  while  to  pull  aside  the 
curtains,  and  bring  in  the  full  sunshine. 

The  room  was,  he  said  over  and  over  to 
himself,  ,the  most  exquisite  thing  he  had 
ever  seen.  The  ruling  color  was  of  some 
blue  which  could  almost  be  thought  a  green, 
and  which  embraced  as  complementary 
decoration  many  shades  of  ocher  and  soft 
yellowish  browns  in  woodwork,  and  in  the 
thick,  fleecy  rugs  underfoot.  Around  the 
four  sides,  at  the  level  of  his  eyes,  ran  a  con 
tinuous  band  of  portraits— the  English  draw 
ings  of  Holbein  reproduced  in  the  dominant 
tint  of  the  room,  set  solidly  into  the  wall,  and 
separated  from  one  another  only  by  thin 
162 


GLORIA    MUNDI 

strips  of  the  same  tawny  oak  which  framed 
them  at  top  and  bottom.  The  hooded,  high- 
bosomed  ladies,  the  cavaliers  in  hats  and 
plumes  and  pointed  beards,  the  smooth 
faced,  shrewd-eyed  prelates  and  statesmen  in 
their  caps  and  fur,  all  knew  him  this  morn 
ing  for  one  of  their  own,  as  he  went  along, 
still  in  his  nightshirt,  and  inspected  them 
afresh.  They  appeared  to  greet  him,  and  he 
beamed  at  them  in  response. 

A  dim  impression  of  the  earlier  morning, 
which  had  seemed  a  shadowy  passing  phase 
of  his  dreams,  revealed  itself  now  to  him 
as  a  substantial  fact.  Some  one  had  been  in 
the  room,  moving  noiselessly  about,  and  had 
spread  forth  for  his  use  a  great  variety  of 
articles  of  clothing  and  of  the  toilet,  most 
of  which  he  beheld  for  the  first  time.  Over 
night,  his  cousin  Emanuel's  insistence  upon 
his  regarding  everything  in  the  house  as  his 
own  for  the  time  being,  had  had  no  definite 
significance  to  his  mind.  He  looked  now 
through  the  array  of  silks  and  fine  cloths,  of 
trinkets  in  ivory  and  silver  and  polished 
metals,  and  began  dressing  himself  with  a 
long  sigh  of  delight. 

Recollections  of  the  leave-taking  at  Caer- 

mere    straggled    into    his    thoughts   as  he 

pursued  the  task.     He  had  seen  Lady  Cres- 

sage  again  in  the  conservatory,  where  she 

163 


GLORIA    MUNDI 

wore  another  dress,  and  had  her  beautiful 
hair  carefully  arranged  as  if  in  his  honor, 
and  poured  out  tea  for  him  and  Lord  Julius 
in  wonderful  little  cups  which  his  great 
grandfather,  a  sailor,  had  brought  from 
China.  Of  her  conversation  he  recalled  lit 
tle,  and  still  less  of  the  talk  of  the  other  lady, 
the  actress-person,  Mrs.  Edward,  who  had 
joined  the  party,  but  whose  composed  pretty 
face  had  been  too  obviously  a  mask  for 
anguish  not  to  dampen  everybody's  spirits. 
He  wondered  now,  as  he  plied  his  razor  on 
the  strap,  what  had  become  of  her  husband, 
and  of  that  poor-spirited  brother  of  his. 
Had  they  joined  the  pheasant-shooters,  after 
their  interview  with  him?  The  temptation 
to  fire  upon  themselves  instead  of  the  birds 
must  have  sorely  beset  them. 

But  it  was  pleasanter  to  begin  the  retro 
spect  some  hours  later,  when  the  rough 
country  of  the  Marches,  and  even  Bristol, 
had  been  left  behind.  Lord  Julius  had 
explained  to  him  then,  as  darkness  settled 
upon  the  low,  pasture-land  levels  they  were 
swinging  along  past,  that  Somerset  was  also 
a  county  of  the  Torrs;  two  of  their  three 
titles  were  derived  from  it,  indeed,  and 
Somerset  marriages  had  brought  into  the 
family,  in  the  days  following  the  downfall  of 
the  monasteries,  some  of  the  most  important 
164 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

of  its  estates.  If  the  dukes  had  turned  their 
backs  on  Caermere  two  centuries  ago,  and 
made  their  principal  seat  here  in  this  gentler 
and  more  equable  land,  perhaps  the  family 
history  might  have  been  different.  Chris 
tian  had  absorbed  the  spirit  rather  than  the 
letter  of  his  companion's  remarks.  English 
counties  were  all  one  to  him,  but  intuitively 
he  had  felt  that  he  was  getting  into  a 
kindlier  and  more  congenial  atmosphere. 
Although  it  was  a  black  night,  he  had  stared 
a  good  deal  at  the  window,  trying  to  dis 
cern  some  tokens  of  this  change  in  the 
dimly  lighted,  empty  stations  they  glided 
through,  or  paused  reluctantly  in. 

When  they  had  finally  quitted  the  train  at 
Bridgewater,  and  had  got  under  way  inside 
the  carriage  waiting  for  them  there,  Chris 
tian  had  asked  whether  it  was  not  true  that 
the  railway  servants  here  were  more  cour 
teously  obliging  than  they  had  been  in  other 
parts. 

Lord  Julius  had  lightly  remarked  that  it 
might  be  so;  very  likely,  however,  it  was 
some  indirect  effect  of  the  general  psychical 
change  the  family  underwent  in  shifting  its 
territorial  base.  Then  he  had  gone  on  more 
gravely,  alluding  for  the  first  time  to  the 
episode  of  the  butler. 

"You  must  be  prepared  to  find  everything 
165 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

very  different,  here,"  he  had  said.  "There 
is  such  a  thing  as  having  too  much  past — 
especially  when  it  is  of  the  wrong  sort. 
Caermere  is  as  tenacious  of  its  memories  as 
a  prison — and  they  are  as  unpleasant.  It 
forces  upon  you  its  air  of  never  forgetting  a 
single  one  of  its  miseries  and  injuries — and 
you  feel  that  it  cannot  remember  any 
compensating  joys.  I  could  see  how  the 
effect  of  it  got  into  your  blood,  and  broke 
your  nerve.  Under  ordinary  circumstances 
men  do  not  kiss  their  butlers,  or  even  sob 
on  their  bosoms.  But  I  understood  per 
fectly  how  old  Barlow  appealed  to  you.  As 
you  beheld  him  he  might  have  stood  as 
model  for  a  statue  of  the  Family  Grief,  chok 
ing  down  its  yearning  to  wail  over  the 
generations  gone  to  the  bad.  It  was  all 
right,  what  you  did.  For  that  matter,  I  was 
precious  near  raising  a  howl  of  lamentation 
myself.  One  is  always  alternating  between 
tears  and  curses  in  that  criminal  old  coal 
mine  of  a  castle.  But  now  you  are  over  a 
hundred  miles  away  from  it  all — and  if  it  was 
a  thousand  the  difference  couldn't  be  greater. 
You  will  find  nothing  whatever  to  cry  about 
down  here.  Nobody  has  any  bad  dreams. 
There  isn't  a  cupboard  that  ever  sheltered 
a  skeleton  even  overnight.  In  these  parts, 
remarkable  as  it  may  seem,  the  Torrs  are 
166 


GLORIA  MUNDI 

actually  regarded  with  admiration — quite 
the  salt  of  the  earth — a  trifle  eccentric,  per 
haps,  but  splendid  landlords,  capable  organ 
izers,  uncommonly  good  masters — and  above 
all,  happy  people  who  insist  that  everybody 
about  them  shall  be  happy  too.  It  was 
important  to  show  you  the  other  side  first— 
at  least  that  was  what  we  decided  upon,  but 
you  are  done  with  that  now — and  we'll  give 
you  something  to  take  the  taste  out  of  your 
mouth." 

Christian  recalled  these  assurances,  now, 
with  a  delicious  sense  of  being  already 
enfolded  and  upheld  by  the  processes  of  their 
fulfillment.  The  details  of  his  reception  at 
the  broad,  hospitably  lighted  door  of  Eman- 
uel's  house  crowded  in  upon  his  memory, 
and  merged  themselves  with  other  recollec 
tions  of  the  later  evening  hours — the  sup 
per,  the  long,  calm,  sweetly  intimate  talk 
before  the  fire,  the  honest,  wise,  frankly 
affectionate  faces  into  which  he  had  looked 
to  say  "good-night" — it  almost  overwhelmed 
him  with  its  weight  of  unimagined  happi 
ness.  He  had  hardly  guessed  before  what 
other  men  might  mean  when  they  gave  a 
loving  sound  to  the  word  "home. "  Yet  now 
the  doors  of  such  a  home  as  he  could  never 
have  dreamed  of  had  opened  to  him — to  him, 
the  homeless,  lonely  one !  and  he  was  nestled 
167 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

securely  in  the  warm  heart  of  its  welcome. 
He  could  have  groaned  aloud  under  the 
burden  of  his  rapture  at  the  thought. 

At  last  he  went  downstairs,  his  misgivings 
about  the  hour  not  quite  allayed  by  recol 
lection  of  the  parting  injunction  to  sleep  his 
fill  and  get  up  when  he  liked.  There  were 
beautiful  things  to  note  and  linger  over  on 
every  side  as  he  made  his  way — pictures  and 
armor  and  wonderful  inlaid  work  and  tapes 
tries,  all  subordinating  themselves  with  dis 
tinguished  good  breeding  to  the  fact  that  they 
were  in  a  home  and  not  a  museum — but  he 
moved  along  in  rather  conscience-stricken 
haste  toward  the  part  of  the  house  which  had 
seemed  to  him  the  previous  night  to  be  the 
center  of  domestic  life.  He  formed  a 
sudden  resolution,  as  he  explored  the  lower 
hallway,  that  when  he  got  some  money  his 
first  purchase  should  be  of  a  watch. 

After  looking  into  a  couple  of  rooms  which 
were  clearly  not  what  he  sought,  Christian 
opened  the  right  door,  and  confronted  a 
breakfast-table,  shining  in  its  snowy  at 
tractiveness  midway  between  a  window  full 
of  sunlight  and  a  brightly  tiled  chimney- 
place,  with  a  fire  on  the  hearth.  There  was 
no  one  in  the  room,  and  he  stood  for  some 
minutes  looking  about  him,  liking  very  much 
the  fresh,  light-hued  cheerfulness  of  every- 
168 


GLORIA    MUNDI 

thing,  but  still  wishing  that  some  one  would 
come  to  pour  his  coffee.  By  degrees,  he 
assimilated  the  idea  that  the  ingredients  of 
breakfast  were  all  here  to  hand.  There 
were  dishes  beside  the  fire,  and  this  was 
apparently  the  coffee-pot  on  the  table — a 
covered  urn,  with  a  thin  spirit-flame  trem 
bling  beneath  it.  He  had  reached  the  point 
of  deciding  to  help  himself — or  should  he 
ring  the  bell  instead? — when  the  door  opened 
and  the  lady  of  the  house  came  bustling  in. 
Mrs.  Emanuel,  as  he  styled  her  in  his 
thoughts,  looked  the  very  spirit  of  break 
fast — buoyant,  gay-hearted  and  full  of  the 
zest  of  life.  Last  night,  to  the  young  man's 
diffident  though  strenuous  inspection,  she 
had  seemed  the  embodiment  of  tender  hos 
pitality  in  general.  Though  his  glances 
were  more  confident  now,  in  the  brilliant 
morning  light,  she  still  gave  the  impression 
of  personifying  the  influences  which  she 
made  felt  about  her,  rather  than  exhibiting 
a  specific  personal  image.  She  was  not  tall, 
nor  yet  short ;  her  face  pleased  the  eye  with 
out  suggesting  prettiness ;  she  had  the  dark, 
clear  skin  and  rounded  substance  of  figure 
which  the  mind  associates  with  sedate  move 
ments  and  even  languor,  but  she  herself 
moved,  thought,  spoke  with  alert  vivacity. 
Above  all  things,  a  mellow  motherliness  in 
169 


GLORIA    MUNDI 

her  had  struck  the  forlorn  youth  the  previous 
evening.  Now  it  seemed  much  more  like 
the  sweet  playfulness  of  a  fond  elder 
sister. 

"You  took  me  at  my  word;  that's  right," 
she  said  to  him,  as  they  shook  hands.  "I 
was  afraid  the  man  might  disturb  you,  or 
give  you  the  idea  you  were  expected  to  get 
up.  And  do  you  feel  perfectly  rested  now? 
A  day  or  two  more  will  do  it,  at  all  events. 
If  I'd  known  how  they  were  dragging  you 
about,  by  night  and  by  day!  But  your 
Uncle  Julius  has  no  knowledge  of  even  the 
meaning  of  the  word  fatigue.  Sit  here, 
won't  you — and  now  here's  bacon  for  you, 
and  here's  fish  taken  this  very  morning,  and 
eggs  I'll  ring  for  to  be  done  as  you  like  them, 
and  how  much  sugar  to  your  coffee?  You 
mustn't  think  this  has  been  boiling  ever 
since  morning.  It  was  made  when  you 
were  heard  moving  about  in  your  room." 

"I  should  be  so  sorry  to  have  kept  any 
body  waiting, ' '  he  began,  in  shy  comment 
upon  the  discovery  that  he  was  eating  alone. 

She  laughed  at  him  with  cordial  frank 
ness.  "Waiting?"  she  echoed  merrily. 
4 '  Why,  it '  s  about  three  o '  clock.  Lord  Julius 
is  nearly  in  London  by  this  time,  and  the 
rest  of  us  have  not  only  breakfasted,  but 
lunched." 

170 


GLORIA  MUNDI 

''Lord  Julius  gone?"  he  asked  with  wide- 
open  eyes. 

She  nodded,  and  raised  a  reassuring  hand. 
4  *  It 's  nothing  but  business.  Telegrams  came 
early  this  morning  which  took  him  away  by 
the  first  train.  He  would  have  gone  later 
in  the  day  in  any  case.  He  left  the  most 
fatherly  adieux  for  you — and  of  course  you'll 
be  seeing  him  soon  in  London." 

Christian  was  puzzled.  "But  this  is  his 
home  here,  is  it  not?"  he  asked. 

"Not  at  all — more'sthe  pity,"  she  replied. 
"We  wish  for  nothing  so  much  as  that  he 
might  make  it  so — but  he  elects  instead  to 
be  the  slave  of  the  family,  and  to  work  like 
a  bank-clerk  in  Brighton  instead  of  cutting 
himself  free  and  living  his  own  life  like  the 
rest  of  us,  in  God's  fresh  air.  But  he  comes 
often  to  us — whenever  the  rural  mood  seizes 
him."  She  seemed  to  comprehend  the 
doubtful  expression  on  the  youth's  face, 
for  she  added  smilingly:  "And  you  mustn't 
be  frightened  to  be  left  alone  with  us. 
You're  as  much  our  blood  as  you  are  his — 
and—" 

"Oh,  don't  think  that!"  he  pleaded 
impulsively.  "I  was  never  so  glad  to  be 
anywhere  in  my  life  as  I  am  to  be  here. ' ' 

Her  gray  eyes  regarded  him  with  kindly 
softness.  He  saw  that  they  were  only  in 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

part  gray  eyes — that  they  were  both  blues 
and  browns  in  their  beautiful  coloring,  and 
that  the  outer  edge  of  the  iris  deepened  in 
tint  almost  to  the  black  of  the  splendid 
lashes.  He  returned  her  look,  and  held  it 
with  a  tentative  smile,  that  he  might  the 
longer  observe  the  remarkable  eyes.  All  at 
once  it  flashed  upon  him  that  there  was  a 
resemblance. 

"Your  eyes  are  like  my  mother's,"  he 
said,  as  if  in  defensive  explanation  of  his 
scrutiny. 

"Tell  me  about  your  mother,"  she  re 
joined,  putting  her  arms  on  the  table  and 
resting  her  chin  upon  a  finger.  "I  do  not 
think  I  ever  heard  her  name. ' ' 

"It  was  Coppinger — Mary  Coppinger.  I 
never  saw  the  name  anywhere  else."  He 
added  hesitatingly:  "My  brother  told  me 
that  her  father  was  a  soldier — an  officer — 
who  became  in  his  old  age  very  poor,  and 
was  at  last  a  gardener  for  some  rich  man  at 
Malta,  and  my  mother  gave  lessons  as  a 
governess  to  support  herself,  and  it  was 
there  she  met  my  father. ' ' 

The  lady  seemed  most  interested  in  the 
name.  "Coppinger,  is  it!"  she  exclaimed, 
nodding  her  head  at  him.  "No  wonder  my 
heart  warmed  at  the  sight  of  you.  Why, 
now,  to  look  at  you — of  course  you're  County 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

Cork.     You're  our  slender  dark  type  to  per 
fection." 

"I  am  afraid  I  do  not  understand,"  he 
murmured. 

"Why,  she  could  not  have  that  name  and 
be  anything  but  a  County  Cork  woman. 
Who  ever  heard  of  a  Coppinger  anywhere 
else?  Only  it  is  pronounced  with  a  soft 
'g,'  not  hard,  as  you  speak  it.  I  wonder — but 
that  can  wait ;  her  father  will  be  easily  enough 
traced.  And  so  you  are  an  Irishman,  too!" 

Christian  looked  abashed  at  the  confusing 
suggestion.  "I  think  I  am  all  English,"  he 
said  vaguely. 

She  laughed  again.  "Are  you  turning 
your  back  on  us?  Did  you  not  know  it?  I 
also  am  Irish.  No  doubt  I  am  some  sort  of 
cousin  of  yours  on  my  own  account,  as 
well  as  on  Emanuel's.  There  are  Coppin- 
gers  in  my  own  family,  and  in  most  of  those 
that  we  have  intermarried  with.  Your 
mother  was  a  Protestant,  of  course." 

He  shook  his  head  apprehensively,  as  if 
fearful  that  his  answer  must  give  pain. 
"No,  she  went  to  mass  like  other  people, 
and  I  was  sent  to  the  Brothers  of  the  Chris 
tian  School.  But  she  was  not  in  any  degree 
a  devotee,  and  for  that  matter,"  he  added 
in  a  more  confident  tone,  "I  myself  am  still 
less  devot. ' ' 

i73 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

4 'Ah!"  was  her  only  comment,  and  he 
quite  failed  to  gather  from  it  any  clue  to  her 
sentiments  on  the  subject.  "Well,"  she 
began  again,  "I'll  not  put  you  through  any 
more  of  your  catechism  now.  Are  you 
finished?  Then  come  with  me  and  we  will 
find  Emanuel,  and  incidentally  you  will  see 
the  place — or  portions  of  it.  It  will  take 
you  a  long  time  to  see  it  all.  Do  you  want 
to  smoke?  Put  some  of  these  cigars  in  your 
pocket — or  here  are  cigarettes  if  you  prefer 
them.  Oh,  we  smoke  everywhere.  There 
is  nothing  on  earth  that  we  want  to  do  that 
we  don't  do — and  there's  nothing  we  don't 
want  to  do  that  any  mortal  power  can  make 
us  do.  There  you  have  the  sum  of  our  phi 
losophy.  " 

He  had  followed  her  into  the  hallway, 
where  the  doors  were  open  wide  to  the  mel 
low  autumn  afternoon.  He  put  on  the  soft 
shapeless  hat  she  gave  him  from  a  collection 
on  the  antlers,  and  was  inspired  to  select  a 
stick  for  himself  out  of  the  big  standful  at 
the  door. 

"Now  I  shall  walk  about,"  he  said,  gaily, 
"quite  as  if  I  had  never  been  out  of  England 
in  my  life.  Is  your  husband — perhaps- 
shooting?" 

She  seemed  always  to  laugh  at  him.     Her 
visible  merriment  at  his  question  dashed  his 
174 


GLORIA  MUNDI 

spirits  for  an  instant.  Then  lie  saw  how 
genial  and  honest  was  her  mirth,  and  smiled 
himself  in  spontaneous  sympathy  with  it. 

''Don't  dream  of  suggesting  it  to  him!" 
she  adjured  the  young  man,  with  mock 
solemnity.  "He  has  a  horror  of  the  idea 
of  killing  living  creatures.  He  does  not 
even  fish  for  sport — though  I  confess  I  hardly 
follow  him  to  that  length.  And  don't  speak 
of  him  in  that  roundabout  way,  but  call  him 
Emanuel,  and  call  me  Kathleen  or  Kit— 
whichever  comes  easiest.  Merely  because 
Thorn's  directory  swears  we're  forty  years 
old,  we're  not  to  be  made  venerable  people 
by  you.  All  happy  folk  belong  to  the  same 
generation,  no  matter  when  they  were 
born — and — but  here  is  Emanuel  now. 

"I  have  been  telling  Christian,"  she  con 
tinued,  addressing  her  husband  as  he  paused 
at  the  foot  of  the  steps,  "that  he  is  to  be 
happy  here,  even  in  spite  of  himself." 

Emanuel  shook  hands  with  his  cousin,  and 
nodded  pleased  approval  of  his  wife's  remark. 
His  smile,  however,  was  of  a  fleeting  sort. 
"Nothing  has  come  of  the  (Enothera  experi 
ments,"  he  announced  to  her  in  a  serious 
tone.  "I'm  afraid  we  must  give  up  the  idea 
of  the  yellow  fuchsia. ' ' 


175 


CHAPTER   IX 

Emanuel  Torr,  at  the  age  of  forty,  was 
felt  by  those  who  knew  and  loved  him  almost 
to  have  justified  the  very  highest  of  the 
high  hopes  which  his  youth  had  encouraged. 
This  intimate  circle  of  appreciation  was 
rendered  a  small  one  by  the  circumstances 
of  his  temperament  and  choice  of  career; 
but  beyond  this  his  name  was  familiar  to 
many  who  had  never  seen  him,  or  who 
remembered  him  at  best  as  a  stripling,  yet 
who  habitually  thought  and  spoke  of  him  as 
an  example  and  model  to  his  generation. 

At  Oxford,  twenty  years  before,  he  had 
attracted  attention  of  a  sort  rather  peculiar 
to  himself.  Those  who  took  note  of  him 
saw  foreshadowed  the  promise,  not  so  much 
of  great  achievements  as  of  the  development 
and  consolidation  of  a  great  influence.  He 
was  not  specially  distinguished  in  his  work 
at  the  University,  and  he  made  no  mark  at 
the  Union,  where  there  happened  at  the 
time  to  be  glittering  a  quite  exceptional 
galaxy  of  future  front  bench  men,  judges 
and  bishops.  In  Emanuel's  case,  the  interest 
he  aroused  was  perhaps  more  sentimental 
177 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

than  intellectual.  His  mind  was  seen  to  be 
&  a  fine  order,  but  his  character  was  even 
more  attractive  to  the  observant  eye.  The 
facts  that  he  was  half  Jewish  in  blood,  and 
that  in  time  he  would  be  the  possessor  of 
enormous  wealth,  no  doubt  lent  an  added 
suggestion  of  romance  to  the  picture  of 
delicate,  somewhat  coldly  modeled  features, 
of  ivory  skin  and  serious,  musing  dark  eyes, 
and  of  a  rare  smile  of  wonderful  sweetness, 
which  Oxford  men  of  the  mid-seventies  still 
associate  with  his  name.  It  was  in  the  days 
when  Disraeli's  remarkable  individuality 
was  a  part  of  England's  current  history,  and 
when  the  English  imagination,  in  part  from 
the  stimulus  of  this  fact,  dwelt  upon  the 
possibilities  of  a  new  Semitic  wave  of  inspira 
tion  and  ethical  impetus.  The  dreams,  the 
aspirations,  the  mysterious  "perhaps"  of 
Daniel  Deronda  were  in  men's  minds,  and 
Johannesburg  had  not  been  so  much  as 
heard  of. 

What  the  University  recognized  in  the 
youth  standing  upon  the  threshold  of  man 
hood,  had  been  an  article  of  faith  within  his 
home  since  his  childhood.  It  is  as  well  to 
recount  at  this  place  the  brief  story  of  that 
home. 

At  the  age  of  twenty-five  Lord  Julius  Torr, 
engaged  in  the  listless  pursuit  of  that  least 
178 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

elusive  of  careers,  called  diplomacy,  found 
himself  at  The  Hague,  and  yawned  his  way 
about  its  brightly  scrubbed  solitudes  for 
some  months,  until,  upon  the  eve  of  his 
resolve  to  have  done  with  the  whole  business, 
and  buy  a  commission  in  a  line  regiment, 
he  encountered  a  young  woman  who  pro 
foundly  altered  all  his  plans  in  life.  It  was 
by  the  merest  and  unlikeliest  of  accidents 
that  he  came  to  know  the  Ascarels,  father 
and  daughter,  and  at  the  outset  his  con 
descension  had  seemed  to  him  to  be  involved 
as  well.  They  were  of  an  old  family  in  the 
Netherlands,  Jewish  in  race  but  now  for 
some  generations  estranged  from  the  syna 
gogue,  and  reputed  to  be  extraordinarily 
wealthy.  It  was  said  of  them  too  that  they 
were  sternly  exclusive,  but  to  the  brother 
of  an  English  duke  this  had  not  appeared  to 
possess  much  meaning.  He  had  previously 
been  of  some  official  service  to  the  father,  in 
a  matter  wherein  Dutch  and  English  inter 
ests  touched  each  other  at  Sumatra;  from 
this  he  came  to  meet  the  daughter.  He 
had  been  told  by  the  proud  father  that  she 
was  of  the  blood  of  the  immortal  Spinoza, 
and  had  been  so  little  impressed  that  he  had 
not  gone  to  the  trouble  of  finding  out  who 
Spinoza  was. 

The    marriage    of    young    Torr,    of    the 
179 


GLORIA    MUNDI 

Foreign  Office,  to  some  Dutch-Jewish  heiress 
a  half-year  later,  received  only  a  trifle  more 
notice  in  England  than  did  the  news  of  his 
retirement  from  his  country's  diplomatic 
service.  The  duke  had  already  four  sons, 
and  the  brother,  when  it  seemed  that  he 
intended  to  live  abroad,  was  not  at  all 
missed.  Nearly  fifteen  years  elapsed  before 
a  mature  Lord  Julius  reappeared  in  Eng 
land — a  Lord  Julius  whom  scarcely  any  one 
found  recognizable.  He  bore  small  visible 
relation  to  the  aimless  and  indolent  young 
attache  whom  people,  by  an  effort  of  mem 
ory,  were  able  to  recall;  still  less  did  he 
resemble  anything  else  that  the  Torr  family, 
within  recollection,  had  produced.  He  took 
a  big  old  house  in  Russell  Square,  and  in 
time  it  became  understood  that  very  learned 
and  intellectual  people  paid  pilgrimages 
thither  to  sit  at  the  feet  of  Lady  Julius,  and 
learn  of  her.  Smart  London  rarely  saw 
this  Lady  Julius  save  at  a  distance — in  her 
carriage  or  at  the  opera.  The  impression  it 
preserved  of  her  was  of  a  short,  swarthy 
woman,  increasingly  stout  as  years  went  on, 
who  peered  with  near-sighted  earnestness 
through  a  large  pince-nez  of  unusual  form. 
On  her  side,  it  seemed  doubtful  if  she  had 
formed  even  so  succinct  an  impression  as 
this  of  smart  London.  She  was  content 
1 80 


GLORIA  MUNDI 

with  Bloomsbury  to  the  end  of  her  days; 
and  made  no  effort  whatever  to  establish 
relations  with  the  West  End.  Indeed,  tales 
came  to  be  told  of  the  effectual  resistance 
she  offered,  in  later  years,  to  amiable  inter 
ested  advances  from  that  quarter.  It  grew 
to  be  believed  that  she  had  made  an  eccen 
tric  will,  and  would  leave  untold  millions  to 
Atheist  charities.  The  rumor  that  she  was 
among  the  most  highly  cultivated  women  of 
her  time,  and  that  the  most  illustrious  scien 
tists  and  thinkers  would  quit  the  society  of 
kings  to  travel  post-haste  across  Europe  at 
her  bidding,  did  not,  it  must  regretfully  be 
added,  seem  incompatible  with  this  theory 
about  a  crazy  will.  Finally,  when  she  died 
in  1885,  something  was  printed  by  the  papers 
about  her  philanthropy,  and  much  was  said 
in  private  speculation  about  her  disposition 
of  her  vast  fortune,  but  it  did  not  come  out 
that  any  will  whatever  was  proved,  and 
London  ceased  to  think  of  the  matter. 

The  outer  world  had  in  truth  been  wrong 
from  the  beginning.  Lady  Julius  was  not  a 
deeply  learned  woman,  and  the  limited  circle 
of  friends  she  gathered  about  her  contained 
hardly  one  distinguished  figure,  in  the 
popular  use  of  the  phrase;  her  opinions 
were  not  notably  advanced  or  unconven 
tional  ;  she  did  not  shun  society  upon  philo- 
iSi 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

sophic  principles,  but  merely  because  it 
failed  to  attract  a  nature  at  once  shy  and 
practical ;  so  far  from  being  rich  in  her  own 
right,  she  had  insisted  many  years  before 
her  death  upon  transferring  every  penny  of 
her  fortune  to  her  husband. 

Inside  her  own  household,  this  dark,  stout 
little  woman  with  the  eye-glasses  was 
revered  as  a  kind  of  angel.  She  was  plain- 
faced  almost  to  ugliness  in  the  eyes  of 
strangers.  Her  husband  and  her  son  never 
doubted  that  she  was  beautiful.  Now,  when 
she  had  been  a  memory  for  ten  years  and 
more,  these  two  talked  of  her  lovingly  and 
with  no  constraint  of  gloom,  as  if  she  were 
still  the  pivot  round  which  their  daily  life 
turned. 

The  elder  man  particularly  delighted  in 
dwelling  upon  the  details  of  that  earlier 
change  in  him,  under  her  influence,  to 
which  allusion  has  been  made.  Emanuel 
had  in  his  mind,  from  boyhood,  no  vision 
more  distinct  or  familiar  than  this  self- 
painted  picture  of  his  father— the  idle, 
indifferent,  unschooled,  paltry-ideaed  young 
gentleman  of  fashion— meeting  all  unawares 
this  overpowering  new  force,  and  kneeling 
in  awed  yet  rapturous  submission  before  it. 
To  the  boy's  imagination  it  became  a  histor 
ical  scene,  as  fixed  and  well  known  in  its 
182 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

lines  of  composition  as  that  of  Nelson's  death 
in  the  cockpit.  He  saw  his  beardless  father 
in  dandified  clothes  of  the  Corn-Laws-carica- 
tnre  period,  proceeding  along1  the  primrose 
path  of  dalliance,  like  some  flippant  new 
Laodicean  type  of  Saul  of  Tarsus — when 
"suddenly  there  shined  around  him  a  light 
from  heaven. "  Lord  Julius,  indeed,  thought 
and  spoke  of  it  in  much  that  same  spirit. 
The  recollection  that  he  had  not  known  who 
Spinoza  was  tenderly  amused  him :  it  was  the 
symbol  of  his  vast  oceanic  ignorance  of  all 
things  worth  knowing. 

"Ah,  yes,"  the  son  used  to  say,  "but 
if  you  had  not  had  within  yourself  all 
the  right  feelings — only  lacking  the  flash 
to  bring  them  out — you  would  not  have 
seen  how  wonderful  she  was.  You 
would  not  have  understood  at  all,  but 
just  passed  on,  and  nothing  would  have 
happened." 

And  the  father,  smiling  in  reverie,  and 
stroking  his  great  beard,  would  answer :  "  I 
don't  see  that  that  follows.  I  remember 
what  I  was  like  quite  vividly,  and  really 
there  was  nothing  in  me  to  explain  the 
thing  at  all.  I  was  a  young  blood  about 
town,  positively  nothing  more.  No,  Eman- 
uel,  we  may  say  what  we  like,  but  there  are 
things  supernatural — that  is,  beyond  what 
183 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

we  can  see,  and  are  prepared  for,  in  nature. 
It  was  as  unaccountable  as  magic,  the  effect 
your  mother  produced  upon  me  from  the 
beginning.  At  the  end  of  a  few  hours, 
when  it  was  time  for  me  to  take  my  leave, 
and  I  turned — there  was  a  gulf  in  front  of 
me,  cutting  me  off  from  where  I  had  been 
before  I  came  to  her,  that  very  day.  It  was 
so  wide,  it  seemed  that  I  could  barely  see 
across  it." 

To  any  listener  but  Emanuel  such  lan 
guage  must  have  been  extravagant.  To  him 
there  were  no  words  for  overpraise  of  his 
mother.  It  was  not  alone  that  he  had  never 
seen  her  in  anger  or  even  vexation ;  that  he 
had  never  known  her  to  be  in  error  in  any 
judgment,  or  suspected  in  her  an  unchari 
table  or  unkindly  thought.  These  were  mere 
negations,  and  the  memory  of  her  was 
full  of  positive  influences,  all  wise  and  pure 
and  lofty.  Very  early  in  life,  when  he  began 
to  look  about  the  world  he  found  himself  in, 
he  learned  to  marvel  that  there  were  no 
other  such  women  anywhere  to  be  seen.  She 
had  been  so  perfect,  with  seemingly  no 
effort  to  herself !  Why  should  other  women 
not  even  try? 

Emanuel  had  been  born  some  ten  years 
after  the  marriage  of  his  parents,  and  they 
thus  came  into  his  baby  consciousness  as 
184 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

persons  of  middle  age,  in  appearance  and  its 
suggested  authority  at  least,  by  comparison 
with  the  parents  of  other  children  he  saw 
about  him.  Nowhere  else,  however,  either 
then  or  in  later  years,  did  he  see  another 
home  so  filled  from  center  to  circumference 
with  love,  and  tender  gentleness  of  eye  and 
word  and  deed.  The  perception  that  this 
environment  was  unique  colored  all  his  boy 
hood.  It  became  a  habit  with  him  to  set  in 
contrast  his  own  charmed  existence  against 
the  unconsidered  and  uneven  experiences  of 
other  children,  and  to  ponder  the  meaning  of 
the  difference.  As  he  grew  up,  the  impor 
tance  of  this  question  expanded  in  his  mind 
and  took  possession  of  it.  He  was  con- 
stimed  with  the  longing  to  make  some  effect 
ive  protest  against  the  peevish  folly  with 
which  humanity  mismanaged  its  brief  in 
nings  of  life.  From  the  cradle  to  the  grave 
the  race  swarmed  stupidly  along,  elbowing 
and  jostling  in  an  aimless  bustle,  hot  and  ill- 
tempered  through  exertions  which  had  no 
purpose;  trampling  down  all  weaker  than 
themselves  and  cursing  those  who,  in  turn, 
had  the  strength  to  push  them  under;  com 
ing  wearily  at  the  end  to  the  gate  and  the 
outer  darkness  of  extinction,  a  futile  and 
disappointed  mob — having  seen  nothing, 
comprehended  nothing,  profited  nothing. 
185 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

The  progress  of  a  generation  across  the  span 
of  life  might  be  made  so  serene  and  well- 
ordered  and  fruitful  an  affair!  What  else 
had  man  to  concern  himself  about  than  this 
one  thing — that  "peace  on  earth,  good  will 
to  men,"  should  rule  in  his  time?  And  how 
was  it  that  this  alone,  of  all  possible  prob 
lems,  received  from  him  no  attention  at 
all? 

The  impulse  toward  a  mission  was  dis 
cernible  in  the  lad ;  it  altogether  dominated 
the  young  man.  His  parents,  regarding 
him  lovingly  and  yet  with  wise  inquiry,  were 
fascinated  by  what  they  saw.  A  sense  of 
lofty  responsibility  in  their  trusteeship  for 
this  beneficent  new  force  formed  a  fresh 
bond  between  them,  which  grew  to  absorb 
within  itself  all  their  other  ties.  They  came 
to  regard  themselves  in  no  other  light 
than  as  the  parents  of  Emanuel.  To  pre 
serve  him  from  vitiating  and  stunting 
suggestions;  richly  to  nourish,  yet  with 
an  anxious  avoidance  of  surfeit,  both  the 
soul  and  the  mind  within  him ;  to  give  him 
strength  and  means  and  single-hearted 
courage  adequate  to  the  task  he  yearned 
to  undertake — they  asked  nothing  better  of 
life  than  this. 

After  Oxford,  he  went  abroad  for  a  couple 
of  years,  having  as  a  companion  a  young 
1 86 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

Fellow  of  Swithin's,  a  trifle  older  than  him 
self,  who  shared  his  moral  attitude  if  not  his 
passionate  aspirations.  He  saw  many  parts 
of  the  world,  and  scrutinized  closely  in  each 
the  working  of  those  portions  of  the  social 
mechanism  which  interested  him.  Return 
ing  with  a  mass  of  notes  and  a  mind  packed 
with  impressions  and  theories,  he  set  to 
work  to  write  a  big  book.  At  the  end  of  a 
year  he  produced  instead  a  small  volume, 
dealing  with  one  little  phase  of  the  huge, 
complex  theme  he  had  at  heart.  It  was  a 
treatise  on  the  relations  between  parents 
and  children,  and  it  received  very  favorable 
reviews  indeed.  University  men  felt  that  it 
was  what  they  had  had  the  foresight  to 
expect  from  this  serious  and  high-minded 
young-  fellow,  who  was  lucky  enough  to 
have  the  means  and  leisure  for  ethical  essay- 
writing.  Evidently  he  was  going  in  for  that 
sort  of  thing,  and  they  noted  with  approba 
tion  that  he  had  been  at  great  pains  with  his 
style.  Much  to  Emanuel's  surprise,  only 
some  three  hundred  copies  of  the  work  were 
sold ;  upon  reflection,  he  saw  that  it  was  no 
part  of  his  plan  to  sell  books,  and  he  forth 
with  distributed  the  remainder  of  the  edition, 
and  another  edition  as  well,  among  the 
libraries  of  the  Three  Kingdoms.  Within 
the  next  three  years  two  other  brochures 
187 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

went  through  much  the  same  experiences. 
They  treated  respectively  of  primary  educa 
tion  and  of  public  amusements.  Again  the 
reviews  were  extremely  cordial;  again  the 
men  who  had  always  predicted  that  Torr 
would  do  something  regarded  their  pro 
phetic  intuition  with  refreshed  complacency ; 
again  Emanuel  drew  considerable  checks  in 
favor  of  his  publisher.  What  had  been 
hinted  at  rather  vaguely  heretofore  was 
now,  however,  announced  with  confidence 
in  "literary"  columns:  these  small  volumes 
were  merely  chapters  of  a  vast  and  compre 
hensive  work  to  which  the  author  had 
dedicated  his  life — the  laborious  exposition 
of  a  whole  new  philosophy  of  existence,  to  be 
as  complete  in  its  way  as  Herbert  Spencer's 
noble  survey  of  mankind. 

Not  long  after  came  the  death  of  Eman 
uel' s  mother — an  unlooked-for  event  which 
altered  everything  in  the  world  to  the 
bereaved  couple  left  behind.  They  went 
away  together  in  the  following  month,  with 
a  plan  of  a  prolonged  tour  in  the  Orient,  but 
came  back  to  England  after  a  few  weeks' 
absence,  having  found  their  proposed  dis 
traction  intolerable.  Lord  Julius  promptly 
invented  for  his  own  relief  the  device  of  tak 
ing  over  upon  himself  the  drudgery  of  caring 
for  his  millions,  which  heretofore  had  been 
188 


GLORIA   MUND1 

divided  among  a  banker,  a  broker,  a  solicitor 
and  two  secretaries.  Emanuel  saw  his  way 
less  directly,  but  at  last  he  found  the  will  to 
begin  a  tentative  experiment  with  some  of 
his  theories  of  life  on  a  Somersetshire  farm 
which  his  father  gave  him.  The  work 
speedily  engrossed  him,  and  expanded  under 
his  hands.  He  became  conscious  of  growth 
writhin  himself  as  well.  The  conviction  that 
life  is  a  thing  not  to  be  written  about,  but  to 
be  lived,  formulated  itself  in  his  mind,  and 
he  elaborated  this  new  view  in  an  argument 
which  persuaded  his  father.  The  Somerset 
shire  estates  of  the  family,  which  had  been 
bought  by  Lord  Julius  in  1859,  when  the 
duke  and  his  son  Porlock  joined  to  set  aside 
the  entail,  were  placed  now  unreservedly  at 
Emanuel's  disposal.  What  he  did  with  them 
is  to  be  seen  later  on. 

At  the  moment,  it  was  of  the  first  impor 
tance  that  he  should  decide  for  himself  the 
great  question  of  celibacy  v.  marriage.  The 
far-reaching  projects  which  possessed  his 
brain  would,  beyond  doubt,  be  multiplied 
infinitely  in  value  if  precisely  the  right 
woman  were  brought  in  to  share  his  enthu 
siasm  and  devotion.  It  was  no  whit  less 
clear  that  they  would  dwindle  into  failure 
and  collapse  under  the  blight  of  the  wrong 
woman.  The  dimensions  of  the  risk  so 
189 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

impressed  him,  as  he  studied  them,  that  for 
more  than  two  years  he  believed  himself  to 
be  irrevocably  committed  to  the  cold  middle 
course  of  bachelorhood. 

Then,  by  a  remarkable  stroke  of  good 
fortune,  he  met,  fell  in  love  with  and  married 
the  sister  of  Lord  Rosbrin,  a  young  Irish 
peer  whom  he  had  known  at  Oxford.  No 
one  has  ever  doubted,  he  least  of  all,  that  she 
was  the  right  woman. 

He  wrote  no  more  books,  in  the  years  fol 
lowing  this  event,  but  gradually  he  became 
the  cause  of  writing  in  others.  A  review 
article  upon  the  character  and  aims  of  his 
experiment  in  Somersetshire,  written  in  an 
appreciative  spirit  by  an  economist  of  posi 
tion,  attracted  so  much  attention  that  the 
intrusion  of  curious  strangers  and  inquisitive 
reporters  threatened  to  be  a  nuisance.  After 
this,  his  name  was  always  mentioned  as  that 
of  an  authority,  when  sociological  problems 
were  discussed.  There  was  even  a  certain 
flurry  of  inquiry  for  his  books,  though  this 
did  not  turn  out  to  have  warranted  the  print 
ing  of  the  new  popular  edition.  Sundry 
precepts  in  them  became,  however,  the  stock 
phrases  of  leader-writers.  People  of  culture 
grew  convinced  that  they  were  familiar  with 
his  works,  and  onl)r  a  few  months  before  the 
period  at  which  we  meet  him.  his  university 
190 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

had  conferred  upon  him  an  honorary  D.C.  L., 
which  gratified  him  more  deeply  than  any 
other  recognition  his  labors  and  attainments 
had  ever  received. 


191 


CHAPTER   X 

Christian,  observing  his  celebrated  cousin 
by  daylight  for  the  first  time,  perceived  the 
necessity  of  revising  some  of  the  previous 
night's  impressions. 

Under  the  illumination  of  the  shaded  lamp 
and  the  glowing  bank  of  peat  on  the  study 
hearth,  Emanuel  in  his  velvet  jacket  and 
slippered  ease  had  seemed  a  delicately 
refined  creature,  of  so  ethereal  a  type  that 
life  for  it  outside  the  atmosphere  of  books, 
and  of  a  library's  thought  and  talk,  would  be 
unnatural,  or  even  impossible.  With  his 
back  to  the  afternoon  sunshine,  however, 
and  with  rough,  light  clothes  suggesting 
fresh-air  exercise,  Emanuel  was  a  different 
person. 

In  stature  he  was  a  trifle  taller  than  Chris 
tian  ;  perhaps  he  was  also  something  heavier, 
but  what  the  newcomer  noted  most  about 
the  figure  was  the  wiry  vigor  of  muscular 
energy  indicated  in  all  its  lines  and  move 
ments.  There  was  apparent  no  trace  of  any 
physical  resemblance  to  his  father,  the 
massive  Lord  Julius,  and  Christian,  as  this 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

fact  occurred  to  him,  remembered  what  he 
had  heard  about  the  race  from  which  the 
mother  had  come.     He  could  not  say  that 
Emanuel's  face  was  like  anything  which  he 
had  thought  of  as  distinctively  Jewish.     The 
forehead  was  both  broad  and  prominent,  and 
at  the  top,  where  early  baldness  exposed  the 
conformation  of  the  skull,  there  were  curious 
sutural  irregularities   of   surface   which   at 
tracted  attention.     The  rest  of  the  face  was 
indefinably  distinguished  in  effect,  but  not 
so  remarkable.     Christian  thought  now  that 
it  was  a  more  virile  countenance   than  he 
had  imagined  it  to  be.     Vague  suggestions 
of  the  scholarly  dreamer  flitted  through  its 
expressions  now  and  again,  but  it  was  still 
above  all  things  the  face  of  a  man  of  action. 
Christian   had   said    to    himself,    in   that 
crowded  instant   of    analysis,    that   he  had 
never  seen  any   Jewish   face    which    at   all 
resembled  this  of  his  cousin's.     Yet  some 
where  he  had  seen  a  face  so  like  it!— the 
memory  puzzled   and    absorbed    his  mind. 
The  same  crisping,  silky  black-brown  hair; 
the  same  full  line  of  brow  and  nose;  the 
same  wide-open  dark  eyes,  intently  compre 
hending  in  their  steady  gaze—how  strangely 
familiar  they  were  to  him!     He  saw  them 
again  in  his  mind's  eye,   and  they  had  the 
same    shadow-casting    background  of    sun- 
194 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

light— only  as  he  looked  at  the  mental 
picture,  this  sunlight  was  fiercer  and  hotter, 
and  there  was  a  golden,  hazy  distance  of 
purple-blue  sea.  Suddenly  he  laughed  aloud, 
and  his  brain  was  alive  with  recollections. 

"I  never  recognized  you  last  night,"  he 
declared.  "Is  it  not  strange  that  I  should 
have  been  so  blind?  But  seeing  you  in  the 
sunlight — ah,  I  remember  you  well  enough. ' ' 

Emanuel  smiled  too,  a  little  awkwardly. 
"Of  course  I  was  not  making  any  secret  of 
it,"  he  said.  "It  would  have  come  up 
naturally,  sooner  or  later,  in  the  course  of 
talk." 

But  Christian  had  turned  to  the  lady,  and 
was  speaking  with  gay  animation.      "He  it 
is  whom  I  have  so    often  thought  of,   for 
years  now,  as  the  'mysterious  stranger'  of 
my  poor  little  romance.     How  long  is  it  ago? 
Oh,  ten  years  perhaps,  since  I  saw  him  first. 
It  was  at  Toulon,  and  I  was  walking  along 
the  quai  in  the  late  afternoon,  and  he  stopped 
me   to  ask  some  question,   and   we   fell   to 
walking  together  and  talking— at  first  about 
the  old  town,  then  of   myself,    because   he 
wished  it  so.     A  long  time  passed,  and  lo !  I 
saw  him  again.     This    time   he   came   into 
Salvator's  little  shop  at  Cannes — it  was  in 
the  Rue  d'Oran — and  I  was  alone,  and  we 
talked  again — it  seems  to  me  for  more  than 
•195 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

an  hour.  And  I  wondered  always  who  he 
could  be — because  he  made  me  feel  that  he 
had  friendly  thoughts  about  me.  And  then, 
once  more — it  was  a  year  ago  last  summer — 
he  met  me  again,  and  came  and  sat  beside 
me  on  a  seat  in  the  Jardin  Public,  at  Nice. 
It  must  have  been  in  June,  for  the  season 
was  ended,  and  it  surprised  me  that  he 
should  be  there. ' ' 

"Oh,  yes,  I  know  all  about  it,"  put  in 
Kathleen.  "He  told  me  of  his  seeing  you, 
and  what  he  thought  of  you,  almost  as  soon 
as  your  back  was  turned.  But  at  that  time, 
of  course— things  hadn't  happened." 

"Ah,  but  he  wanted  to  be  kind  to  me, 
even  then,"  the  young  man  broke  forth, 
with  a  glow  in  his  eyes.  "I  felt  that  in  his 
tone,  the  very  first  time,  when  I  was  the 
young  boy  at  school.  Oh,  I  puzzled  my 
brain  very  often  about  this  young  English 
gentleman  who  liked  to  talk  to  me.  And 
here  is  a  curious  thing,  that  when  the  Credit 
Lyonnais  gave  me  my  summons  to  come  to 
England,  it  was  of  him  that  I  thought  first 
of  all,  and  wondered  if  he  had  not  some  part 
in  it. '  And  then  I  was  so  dull— I  come  to 
his  own  house,  and  sit  at  his  own  table  with 
him  as  my  cousin,  and  do  not  know  him  at 
all !  It  is  true  that  he  had  no  beard  then — 
but  none  the  less  I  am  ashamed."  He 
196 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

spread  his  hands  out  and  smiled  a  deprecatory 
gesture  at  them  both  as  he  added:  "But 
then  everything  has  been  upside '  down  in 
my  mind  since  I  came  to  England.  It  has 
been  as  if  I  were  going  up  the  side  of  a 
straight  cliff  in  a  funicular  railway — my 
heart  throbbing  in  terror,  my  brain  whirl 
ing — afraid  to  look  down,  or  out,  or  to 
realize  where  I  was.  But  to-day  I  am 
happily  at  the  end  of  the  journey,  and  the 
good  safe  ground  is  well  under  my  feet — and 
so  I  am  not  confused  any  more,  but  only 
very,  very  glad. ' ' 

The  elder  couple  exchanged  a  frankly 
delighted  smile  over  the  enthusiast's  head. 
"You  take  him  for  a  stroll  about  the  place," 
said  the  wife.  "Perhaps  I  will  come  and 
find  you,  later  on." 

In  obedience  to  the  suggestion,  the  two 
men  turned,  and  went  off  together  across 
the  lawn. 

Emanuel  began  speaking  at  once.  "My 
father,"  he  said,  "has  given  me  a  rough 
outline  of  what  you  have  seen  and  heard. 
In  the  nature  of  things,  it  could  not  all  be 
pleasant." 

"Oh,  I  have  quite  forgotten  the  unhappy 
parts,"  the  young  man  declared.  "I  re 
solved  to  do  that;  it  would  be  folly  to 
remember  them." 


197 


GLORIA  MUNDI 

"They  have  their  uses,  though,"  persisted 
the  other.  * '  I  wanted  you  to  start  out  with 
just  that  impression  of  the  family's  seamy 
side.  We  have  an  immense  deal  to  make  up 
to  the  people  about  us,  and  to  humanity  in 
general,  have  we  Torrs.  It  seemed  to  me 
that  you  could  not  realize  this  too  early  in 
your  experience  here.  What  impressions 
did  Caermere  itself  make  upon  you?" 

Christian  hesitated  a  little,  to  give  form  to 
his  thoughts.  "I  am  imagining  it  in  my 
mind,"  he  said  at  last,  slowly,  and  with 
extended  hands  to  shape  his  meaning  to  the 
eye,  "as  a  huge  canvas  one  of  the  very 
biggest.  As  it  happens,  there  is  an  un 
pleasant  picture  on  it  now,  but  that  can  be 
wiped  out,  covered  over,  and  then  on  the 
vast  blank  surface  a  new  and  splendid  picture 
may  be  painted — if  I  have  the  skill  to  do 
it."  He  paused,  as  his  companion  nodded 
comprehension  of  the  figure,  and  then  added 
abruptly:  "I  have  not  put  the  question 
direct  before — but  it  is  really  the  case  that 
I  am  to  succeed  my  grandfather — to  be  duke 
of  Glastonbury,  is  it  not?" 

"Yes,"  answered  Emanuel,  gravely. 
"That  is  the  case." 

"Lord  Julius  told  me  to  ask  you  every 
thing,"    Christian   went   on,  in   defense   of 
his  curiosity.     "But,  grand  Dieu!  there  is 
198 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

so  much  to  ask !  Shall  I  be  a  rich  man,  also? 
There  are  dukes  in  France  who  can  scarcely 
give  a  dinner  to  a  friend — and  in  Italy  who 
are  often  in  doubt  about  even  their  own 
dinners.  I  understand  that  English  dukes 
are  different — but  it  has  been  said  to  me 
that  my  grandfather,  for  example,  is  not  a 
rich  man.  He  would  be  rich,  no  doubt,  in 
some  other  station,  but  as  a  duke  he  is  poor. 
Shall  I  also  be  poor?" 

Emanuel  smiled,  more,  it  seemed,  to  him 
self  than  for  the  benefit  of  the  young  man. 
With  amusing  deliberation  he  took  from  his 
pocket  a  little  oblong  book  with  flexible 
covers.  "Have  you  ever  owned  a  check 
book?"  he  asked  drily. 

Christian  shook  his  head. 

4 'Well,  this  is  yours.  It  came  from  Lon 
don  this  morning.  I  have  written  here  on 
the  back  of  the  first  check,  on  the  part  that 
remains  in  the  book,  these  figures.  They 
show  what  the  bank  holds  at  your  disposal 
at  the  present  moment." 

Christian  took  the  book,  and  stared  with 
awe  at  the  figures  indicated.  "Three  thou 
sand  pounds!  That  is  to  say,  seventy-five 
thousand  francs !  But— I  do  not  understand. 
What  portion  is  this  of  my  entire  fortune? 
There  is  more  besides — to  come  at  some 
future  period — n'est  ce  pas?" 
199 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

The  sum  itself  had  seemed  at  first  glance 
to  be  of  bewildering  dimensions.  Soberer 
second  thoughts,  however,  told  him  that  he 
had  been  lifted  into  a  social  stratum  where 
such  an  amount  might  easily  come  and  go  a 
number  of  times  during  one's  life. 

**  Well,"  Emanuel  began,  hesitating  in  turn 
over  his  phrases,  "strictly  speaking,  you 
have  no  fortune  at  all.  This  money  has 
been  placed  to  your  credit  by  my  father — 
or  if  you  like,  by  us  both — to  put  you  in  a 
position  of  independence  for  the  time  being. 
You  are  quite  free  to  spend  it  as  you  like. 
But — this  is  a  somewhat  delicate  matter  to 
explain — but  we  look  to  you  in  turn  to  be 
more  or  less  guided  by  us  in,  say,  your  mode 
of  life,  your  choice  of  associates  and — and  so 
on.  Don't  think  that  we  wish  in  the  least 
to  hamper  your  individual  freedom.  I  am 
sure  you  will  feel  that  that  is  not  our  way. 
But  we  have  formed  very  high  hopes  indeed 
for  your  career  and — how  shall  I  make  you 
understand? — it  rests  a  good  deal  with  us  to 
say  how  far  the  realization  of  these  hopes 
warrants  us  in  going  on.  That  isn't  plain 
to  you,  I  see.  Well,  to  put  it  frankly,  you 
have  nothing  of  your  own,  but  we  turn  our 
money  over  to  you  because  we  believe  in 
you.  If  unhappily — let  us  suppose  the  very 
improbable  case — we  should  find  ourselves  no 

200 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

longer  believing  in  you,  why  then  we  should 
feel  free  to  reconsider  our  financial  responsi 
bilities  towards  you.  That  is  stating  it  very 
baldly— not  at  all  as  I  should  like  to  have 
put  it — but  it  gives  you  the  essence  of  the 
situation. ' ' 

They  had  paused,  and  Christian  regarded 
him  with  a  troubled  face.  4  *  Then  if  you  come 
not  to  like  me,  or  if  I  make  mistakes,  you 
take  everything  away  from  me  again?  I 
have  never  heard  of  a  system  like  that.  It 
seems  to  place  me  in  a  very  strange  position. " 

The  youth's  mobile  countenance  expressed 
such  wistful  dejection,  as  he  faltered  out 
these  words,  that  Emanuel  hastened  to 
reassure  him. 

"No,  no,"  he  urged,  putting  a  brotherly 
hand  on  his  shoulder,  "it  is  the  fault  entirely 
of  the  way  I  explained  it.  No  one  will  ever 
take  anything  away  from  you.  In  all  human 
probability  you  will  live  and  die  a  wealthy 
and  powerful  nobleman — and  perhaps  some 
thing  a  good  deal  more  than  that.  But  let 
me  show  you  the  situation  in  another  way. 
You  have  seen  your  grandfather — so  I  need 
say  little  about  him.  When  he  had  reached 
the  age  of  fifty  or  thereabouts  he  had  come 
to  the  end  of  his  resources.  Since  the 
estates  were  entailed,  nothing  could  be  sold 
or  mortgaged,  and  debts  of  all  sorts  were 

201 


GLORIA  MUNDI 

crowding  in  upon  him  and  his  eldest  son, 
Lord  Porlock.  They  were  at  their  wits' 
end  to  keep  going  at  all ;  Pcrlock  could  not 
hold  his  head  up  in  London,  much  less 
marry,  as  he  was  expected  to  do.  If  it  had 
not  been  for  the  invention  of  life  insurance, 
they  could  hardly  have  found  money  to  live 
from  week  to  week.  That  was  in  1858  or  '9, 
when  I  was  two  or  three  years  old.  It  was 
then  that  my  father  adopted  his  policy 
toward  the  older  branch  of  the  family.  As 
you  perhaps  know,  he  was  a  very  rich  man. 
He  came  forward  at  this  juncture,  and  saved 
the  duke  and  his  household  from  ruin." 

"That  was  very  noble  of  him.  It  is  what 
I  should  have  thought  he  would  do, ' '  inter 
posed  Christian.  They  had  begun  walking 
again. 

"Oh,  I  don't  know  that  noble  is  quite  the 
word,"  said  Emanuel.  "The  element  of 
generosity  was  not  very  conspicuous  in  the 
transaction.  The  truth  is  that  the  duke  and 
his  son  were  not  people  that  one  could  be 
generous  to.  They  had  to  be  bound  to  a 
hard-and-fast  bargain.  They  agreed  be 
tween  them  to  break  the  entail,  so  that  all 
the  estates  could  be  dealt  with  as  was 
deemed  best,  and  bound  themselves  to  sell 
or  mortgage  nothing  except  to  my  father, 
unless  with  his  consent.  He  on  his  side 

202 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

settled  seventy  thousand  pounds  on  Porlock 
and  his  heirs,  thus  enabling  him  to  marry, 
and  he  not  only  purchased  from  the  duke  the 
Somerset  properties,  of  which  this  is  a  part, 
but  he  bought  up  his  debts  at  the  sacrifice 
of  a  good  many  thousands  of  pounds,  so  that 
in  practice  he  became  his  brother's  only 
creditor.  No  doubt  there  was  generosity 
in  that — since  he  cut  down  the  rate  of  interest 
to  something  almost  nominal  by  comparison 
with  the  usury  that  had  been  going  on — but 
his  motive  was  practical  enough.  It  was  to 
get  complete  financial  mastery  of  the  family 
estates.  Nearly  forty  years  have  passed 
since  he  began ;  to-day  he  holds  mortgages 
on  practically  every  acre.  If  it  were  not 
for  the  mine  near  Coalbrook,  which  latterly 
yields  the  duke  a  certain  surplus  over  the 
outlay  at  Caermere,  my  father  would  prob 
ably  own  it  all  outright.  Well,  you  have 
followed  it  so  far,  haven't  you?" 

Christian  thoughtfully  nodded  his  head. 
"These  are  not  affairs  that  I  have  been 
brought  up  to  understand,"  he  commented, 
"but  I  think  I  comprehend.  Only  this — 
you  speak  of  your  father's  adopted  policy; 
that  means  he  has  a  purpose — an  aim.  The 
lady  at  the  castle — Lady  Cressage — spoke  to 
me  about  this,  and  I  wish — 

"Ah,  yes,  you  met  her,"  interposed 
203 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

Emanuel.     "I  am  not  sure  she  was  the  best 
fitted  to  expound  our  policy  to  you." 

Oh,  she  was  very  sympathetic, ' '  the  young 
man  hastened  to  insist.  "She  had  the 
warmest  praises  for  both  you  and  your 
father.  And  I  could  not  but  feel  she  wished 
me  well,  too." 

Emanuel  made  no  immediate  reply,  but 
walked  slowly  along,  revolving  silent 
thoughts,  with  a  far-away,  deliberative  look 
in  his  eyes.  When  he  spoke  at  last,  it  was 
to  revert  with  abruptness  to  the  earlier  topic. 
"The  policy,  as  we  are  calling  it,"  he  said, 
"can  be  put  in  a  nutshell.  We  take  that 
kind  of  pride  in  the  family  which  impels  us 
to  resolve  that,  if  we  cannot  induce  it  to  do 
great  things,  we  will  at  least  prevent  it 
doing  base  things.  The  position  which  your 
grandfather  inherited  was  one  of  remarkable 
opportunities,  and  also  of  exceptional  respon 
sibilities.  He  was  unfit  to  do  anything  with 
the  opportunities,  and  as  for  the  responsi 
bilities,  he  regarded  them  with  only  ignorant 
contempt.  His  immediate  heirs  were  very 
little  better.  It  became  a  problem  with  us, 
therefore,  how  best  to  limit  their  power  for 
harm.  Money  was  the  one  force  they  could 
understand  and  respect,  and  we  have  used 
it  accordingly.  I  say  'we'  because  as  the 
situation  has  gradually  developed  itself,  it 
204 


GLORIA    MUNDI 

is  hard  to  say  which  part  of  it  is  my  father's 
and  which  mine — and  still  more  impossible  to 
imagine  what  either  of  us  would  have  done 
independently  of  my  mother.  I  will  tell  you 
more  about  her  sometime.  It  was  she,  of 
course,  who  brought  the  money  to  us,  but 
she  brought  much  else  besides.  However, 
we  will  not  enter  upon  that  at  the  moment. 
Well,  suddenly,  last  summer,  the  deaths 
changed  everything.  Up  to  that  time,  what 
we  had  been  doing  had  had,  so  to  speak, 
only  a  negative  purpose.  We  had  been  keep 
ing  unfit  people  from  parading  their  unfit- 
ness  in  too  scandalously  public  a  fashion. 
But  all  at  once  the  possibility  of  doing  some 
thing  positive — something  which  might  be 
very  fine  indeed — was  opened  up  before  us. 
As  you  know  now,  we  were  aware  of  your 
existence,  but  there  were  inquiries  to  be 
made  as  to — well,  as  to  the  formal  validity 
of  your  claim.  After  that,  there  was  some 
slight  delay  in  tracing  your  whereabouts— 
but  now  you  are  here,  at  last. ' ' 

4 'Now  I  am  here,  at  last!"  Christian 
repeated  softly.  He  looked  up  into  the  sky ; 
somewhere  from  the  blue  an  invisible  lark 
filled  the  air  with  its  bubbling  song.  He 
drew  a  long  breath  of  amazed  content,  then 
turned  to  his  companion. 

4 'That  men  like  you  and  your  father  should 
205 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

be  making  plans  and  sacrifices  for  one  like 
myself,"  he  said — "it  is  hard  for  me  to 
realize  it.  There  is  nothing  for  me  to  say 
but  this — that  I  will  spare  no  thought  or 
labor  to  be  what  you  want  me  to  be.  And 
you  will  make  it  all  clear  to  me,  will  you 
not?  in  every  detail  what  it  is  I  am  to  do?" 
"Oh,  hardly  to  that  length,"  said  Eman- 
uel.  He  smiled  once  more — that  grave, 
sweet,  introspective  smile  of  his,  which  sug 
gested  humor  as  little  as  it  did  flippancy — 
and  spoke  more  freely,  as  if  conscious  that 
the  irksome  part  of  his  task  lay  behind  him. 
"We  dream  a  great  dream  of  you,  but  it 
would  be  folly  to  attempt  to  dictate  to  you 
at  every  stage  of  its  realization.  That 
would  do  you  more  harm  than  good,  and  it 
would  be  unfair  to  both  parties,  into  the 
bargain.  No,  what  I  desire  is  to  show  you 
the  practical  workings  of  a  system,  and  to 
fill  you  with  the  principles  and  spirit  of  that 
system.  I  think  it  will  interest  you  deeply, 
and  I  hope  you  will  see  your  way  to  making 
it,  in  its  essentials  at  least,  your  own.  It 
has  taken  me  many  years  to  build  it  up,  and 
I  can't  pretend  to  suppose  that  you  will 
grasp  it  in  a  week  or  a  year.  But  you  will  see 
at  least  the  aim  I  have  in  view,  and  you  will 
get  a  notion  of  how  I  progress  toward  it.  I 
shall  be  satisfied,  for  the  time  being,  merely 
206 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

to  commend  it  to  your  judgment  as  the  aim 
which  you  might  do  well  to  set  before  you. — 
It  occurs  to  me  to  ask  you :  have  you  decided 
opinions  in  politics?" 

Christian  shrugged  his  shoulders  diffi 
dently.  "In  France  my  friends  were  of 
many  parties,  but  since  I  thought  never  of 
myself  as  a  Frenchman,  I  did  not  take  sides 
with  any  of  them.  My  brother  Salvator  is 
very  advanced  indeed;  he  is  a  Free  Mason, 
and  his  friends  are  Carbonari  in  Italy  and 
Socialists  in  France.  But  to  me,  these 
things  had  not  much  meaning.  I  said 
always  to  myself  that  I  was  English,  and  I 
read  journals  from  London  when  I  could,  to 
learn  about  English  parties.  But  it  was  not 
easy  to  learn.  I  stood  in  the  streets  often 
at  Cannes  in  the  early  spring  to  see  Mr. 
Gladstone  when  he  passed,  and  to  take  off 
my  hat  to  him,  because  I  read  that  he  was 
the  greatest  Englishman.  But  then  I  talked 
with  English  people  on  the  Riviera  about 
him,  and  they  all  cursed  and  ridiculed  him, 
and  told  me  that  in  England  no  respectable 
people  would  so  much  as  speak  to  him. 
So  it  is  very  hard  to  know  the  truth — when 
you  are  born  and  bred  in  another  country. 

"Even  those  who  are  born  here  do  not 
invariably    agree    upon    definitions   of  the 
truth,"  commented  Emanuel.     "But  I  was 
207 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

not   speaking   of  parties   or   politicians,  so 

,    called.     Politics,  in  its  bigger  sense,  means 

/    the  housekeeping  of  humanity — the   whole 

mass  of  interests  that  the  individuals  of  the 

human  race  have  in  common.     But  I  don't 

^s*  want  to  generalize  to  you.     Let  us  stop  here 

for  a  few  minutes ;  I  have  brought  you  to 

this  point  that  you  may  get  the  view." 

Their  leisurely  stroll  through  pastures  and 
meadows,  and  latterly  across  a  strip  of 
grassy  common  dotted  with  sheep,  had 
brought  them  by  a  gradual  ascent  to  the 
summit  of  a  knoll,  crowned  by  a  group  of 
picturesquely  gnarled  and  twisted  old  trees, 
the  boughs  of  which  were  all  pointed  back 
ward  in  the  direction  whence  the  men  had 
come.  Christian,  coming  to  the  ridge  and 
halting,  confronted  the  unexpected  breeze, 
steady  and  sustained  as  an  ocean  swell, 
which  he  could  hear  murmuring  through 
the  land- ward  bent  branches  overhead.  In 
front  of  him,  at  the  distance  of  a  stone's 
throw,  the  sloping  heath  abruptly  ended 
in  what  for  the  instant  he  supposed  was  the 
sky-line — and  then  saw  to  be  a  vast  glitter 
ing  expanse  of  water,  stretching  off  to  an 
illimitable  horizon. 

"Oh,  the  sea!"  he  cried  out,  in  surprised 
delight.  "I  had  never  dreamed  that  we 
were  near  it." 

208 


GLORIA    MUNDI 

He  could  distinguish  now  the  faint  inter 
mittent  rustle  of  the  waves  on  the  hidden 
beach  far  below.  Perhaps  a  mile  out  the 
profile  of  a  craft  under  full  sail  shone 
magically  white  in  the  sunlight.  He  knew 
it  to  be  a  yacht,  and  began  watching  it  with 
an  intuitive  appreciation  of  its  beauty  of 
line  and  carriage.  Then  in  a  sudden  impulse 
he  swung  around  and  faced  his  companion. 
:'I  do  not  like  to  look  at  it,"  he  broke  out 
nervously.  "I  am  afraid  to  see  the  ghosts 
of  those  cousins  who  were  drowned — killed 
to  make  room  for  me.  Where  their  yacht 
went  down  on  the  rocks— was  that  close  by 
here?" 

"At  least  sixty  miles  away — in  that  direc 
tion,"  and  Emanuel  gave  an  indifferent  nod 
towards  the  west.  "I  wouldn't  encourage 
ghosts  of  any  sort,  if  I  were  you,  but  theirs 
would  be  least  of  all  worth  while.  I  wanted 
you  to  look  about  you  from  here— not 
specially  seaward,  but  in  all  directions. 
There  is  a  small  village  at  the  water's  edge, 
almost  directly  under  our  feet,  which  can't 
be  seen  from  above — we  will  get  round  to 
it,  perhaps  to-morrow— but  look  in  other 
directions.  As  far  as  you  can  see  along  the 
coast  to  right  and  left— and  inland,  too— the 
system  I  spoke  of  is  in  operation.  It  is  all 
my  land.  Get  the  scope  of  it  into  your  mind. 
209 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

Roughly  speaking,  you  can  see  over  some 
nine  or  ten  thousand  acres.  Imagine  that 
multiplied  by  seven  or  eight,  and  you  will 
have  an  idea  of  the  territory  that  your  grand 
father  still  owns — at  least  nominally. ' ' 

Christian  kept  a  rapt  gaze  upon  the  pros 
pect,  and  strove  in  silence  to  grasp  the  mean 
ing  of  the  words. 

4 'On  the  land  that  you  see  before  you," 
Emanuel  went  on,  "in  one  capacity  or 
another,  nearly  two  thousand  human  beings 
have  homes.  On  your  grandfather's  estates 
there  must  be  nearly  if  not  quite  ten  times 
that  number.  Think  what  this  means.  You 
will  be  in  a  position  to  affect  the  prosperity, 
the  happiness,  the  well-being,  body  and  soul, 
of  fifteen  or  twenty  thousand  people.  It  is  a 
little  nation — a  small  kingdom — of  which 
you  will  be  the  head." 

The  young  man  turned  slowly  and  forced 
himself  to  look  out  upon  the  deep,  but  still 
said  nothing. 

"This  position  you  may  make  much  of,  or 
little,  or  worse  than  nothing  at  all,"  the 
other  continued.  "It  is  a  simple  enough 
matter  to  put  the  work  and  the  responsi 
bility  upon  other  shoulders,  if  you  choose  to 
do  it.  Many  very  respectable  men  born  to 
such  positions  do  wash  their  hands  of  the 
worry  and  labor  in  just  that  fashion.  They 
210 


GLORIA    MUNDI 

lead  idle  lives,  they  amuse  themselves,  they 
take  all  that  is  yielded  to.  them  and  give 
nothing  in  return — and  because  they  avoid 
open  grossness  and  scandal  their  behavior 
attracts  no  particular  attention.  In  fact,  it 
is  quite  taken  for  granted  that  they  have 
done  the  natural  thing.  Being  born  to 
leisure,  why  should  they  toil?  Possessing 
the  title  to  wealth  and  dominion  and  the 
deference  of  those  about  *hem,  why  should 
they  be  expected  to  go  to  work  and  earn 
these  things  which  they  already  own?  That 
is  the  public  view.  Mine  is  very  different. 
I  hold  that  a  man  who  has  been  born  to  a 
position  of  power  among  his  fellows,  and 
neglects  the  duties  of  that  position  while  he 
accepts  its  rewards,  is  disgraced.  It  is  as 
dishonest  as  any  action  for  which  less  for 
tunate  persons  go  to  prison." 

"Yes,  that  is  my  feeling,  also,"  said  Chris-' 
tian  in  low,  earnest  tones.     "It's  all  true — • 
but — " 

"Ah,  yes,  the  'But,'"  commented  Eman- 
uel,  with  his  perceptive  smile.  "Now  let  me 
explain  to  you  that  I  have  met  this  *  But,' 
and  done  battle  with  it,  and  put  it  under  my 
feet.  I  began  planning  for  this  struggle 
when  I  was  very  young.  All  the  good 
people  I  knew  admitted  frankly  the  evils  I 
speak  of;  they  saw  them  quite  clearly,  and 

211 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

talked  with  eloquence  and  fine  feeling  about 
them,   and  at  the  finish  they  said  'But!' — 
and   changed    the  subject,    and   everything 
went  on  as  before.     It  became  apparent  to 
me  that  this  eternal  'But'  is  the  enemy  of 
the  human  race.     There  it  stood  forever  in 
the  path,  blocking  every  attempt  of  benev 
olent   and  right-minded  people  to  advance 
in  real  progress.     So  I   said :  •  at  least  one 
life  shall  be  given  to  the  task  of  proving 
that  there  need  be  no  4But.'     I  have  been 
working   here   now   for    years,    upon    lines 
which    were  carefully    thought  out  during 
other  years   of    preparation.      The  results 
are  in  most  respects  better  than  I  could  have 
expected ;  they  are  certainly  many-fold  better 
than  any  one  who  had  not  my  faith  could  have 
believed  possible.     Sundry  limitations  in  the 
system  I  have,  no  doubt,  discovered.     Some 
things  which  seemed  axiomatic  on  paper  do 
not  work  themselves  out  the  same  way  in 
practice — but  as  a  whole  the  system  is  recog 
nized  now  as  having  justified  itself.     There 
was  an  article  in  the  'Fortnightly'  on  it  last 
November  which  I  will   give  you  to  read. 
I  have  written  some  chapters  upon  certain 
phases  of  it,  myself,  which  you  might  also 
look  at.       But  the  principal  thing  is  that  you 
should  see  the  system  itself  in  full  opera 
tion." 

212 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

"I  am  eager  to  begin, "  declared  the  young 
man,  with  fervor. 

They  had  turned  by  tacit  consent,  and 
were  sauntering  back  again  over  the  short, 
soft  grass  of  the  heath. 

Emanuel  paused  and  picked  from  a  furze- 
bush  a  belated  spray  of  bright  yellow  blos 
soms.  As  he  continued  his  walk,  he  pulled 
one  of  these  flowers  to  pieces,  and  atten 
tively  examined  the  fragments. 

"I  gather  that  you  are  much  interested  in 
flowers,"  said  Christian,  to  make  conversa 
tion. 

The  other  laughed  briefly,  as  he  threw  the 
stuff  aside,  then  sighed  a  little.  "Too  much 
so,"  he  answered.  "I  wish  I  had  the  cour 
age  to  give  it  up  altogether.  It  murders  my 
work.  I  spend  sometimes  whole  hours  in 
my  greenhouses  when  I  ought  to  be  doing 
other  things.  The  worst  of  it  is  that  I 
realize  perfectly  the  criminal  waste  of  time — 
and  still  I  persist  in  it.  There  is  some 
thing  quite  mysterious  in  plants — especially 
if  you  have  grown  them  yourself.  You  can 
go  and  stand  among  them  by  the  hour,  and 
look  from  one  to  another,  with  your  mind 
entirely  closed  to  thoughts  of  any  descrip 
tion.  I  used  to  assume  that  this  mental  rest 
had  a  recuperative  value,  but  as  I  get  older 
I  suspect  that  it  is  a  kind  of  lethargy  instead 
213 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

mere  blankness  that  can  grow  upon 
one.  I  find  myself,  for  example,  going  in 
cessantly  to  see  certain  pans  of  my  own 
hybridized  seedlings — and  staring  aimlessly 
at  them  till  I  get  quite  empty-headed.  Now, 
I  am  too  busy  a  man  to  be  able  to  afford 
that." 

' '  But  if  you  get  pleasure  from  it, ' '  expostu 
lated  Christian,  gently. 

"We  have  no  right  to  think  of  our  pleas 
ure,"  Emanuel  asserted  with  decision, 
4 'while  any  duty  remains  unperformed.  And 
rightly  considered,  duty  is  pleasure,  the  very 
highest  and  noblest  pleasure.  The  trouble 
is  that  even  while  our  minds  quite  recognize 
this,  our  senses  play  us  tricks.  For  example, 
when  I  saw  how  much  time  I  was  wasting 
on  flowers,  I  tried  to  turn  the  impulse  into 
a  useful  channel.  The  blossoms  of  fruit 
trees,  for  instance ;  the  growth  and  flower 
ing  and  seeding  processes  of  melons  and 
broad-beans  and  potatoes  and  so  on,  are  just 
as  interesting  and  worthy  of  study,  and  they 
mean  value  to  humanity  into  the  bargain. 
So  I  said  I  would  concentrate  my  atten 
tion  upon  them,  instead — but  there  was 
some  perverse  element  in  me  somewhere; 
I  couldn't  do  it.  The  mere  knowledge  that 
these  excellent  vegetables  were  of  practical 
utility  threw  me  off  altogether.  They  bored 
214 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

me — so  I  went  shamefacedly  back  to  the 
roses  and  fuchsias  and  dahlias." 

"They  have  wonderful  dahlias  at  Caer- 
mere,"  interposed  Christian.  "I  walked 
for  a  long  time  among  them  with  Lady 
Cressage,  and  she  told  me  all  their  names. 
Poor  lady,  she  is  very  sad,  in  spite  of  the 
flowers.  I — I  think  I  should  like  to  say  it  to 
you — I  find  myself  very  sorry  for  her. 
And — such  a  bewildering  number  of  things 
are  to  be  done  for  me — is  there  not  some 
thing  that  can  be  done  for  her?" 

Emanuel  walked  slowly  on  in  silence  for 
some  moments,  regarding  his  companion's 
profile  out  of  the  corner  of  his  eye,  his  own 
face  showing  signs  of  preoccupation  mean 
time.  When  at  last  he  spoke,  the  question 
seemed  to  have  lost  itself  in  convolution  of 
his  thoughts. 

"Considering  their  northern  exposure," 
he  said  meditatively,  "they  grow  an  extra 
ordinary  amount  of  fruit  at  Caermere." 


215 


CHAPTER    XI 

At  the  end  of  a  fortnight  Christian  found 
himself  able  to  confront  the  system,  and 
even  look  it  in  the  face,  with  a  certain  degree 
of  mental  composure.  He  was  far  from 
imagining  that  he  had  comprehended  it  all, 
but  the  thought  of  it  no  longer  made  his 
brain  whirl  by  the  magnitude  of  its  scope, 
or  frightened  him  by  its  daring.  The  impli 
cation  that  he  was  expected  to  do  still  more 
with  it  than  Emanuel,  its  inventor  and 
evangel,  had  done,  possessed  its  terrors,  no 
doubt,  but  one  is  not  young  for  nothing. 
The  buoyancy  of  youth,  expanding  genially 
amid  these  delightful  surroundings,  thrust 
these  shadows  off  into  the  indefinite  future, 
whenever  they  approached. 

This  system  need  not  detain  us  long,  or 
unnerve  us  at  all.  Lord  Julius  had  spoken 
figuratively  of  it  as  the  Pursuit  of  Happiness ; 
perhaps  that  remains  its  best  definition. 

Like   other    systems,    it   was    capable   of 

explanation  by  means  of  formulas ;  but  the 

most  lucid  and  painstaking  presentation  of 

these  could  not  hope   to   convey   complete 

217 


GLORIA  MUNDI 

meaning1  to  the  mind.  Stated  in  woids, 
Emanuel's  plan  hardly  appealed  to  the 
imagination.  Save  for  a  few  innovations, 
not  of  primary  importance,  it  proceeded  by 
arguments  entirely  familiar  to  everybody, 
and  which  indeed  none  disputes.  Most  of 
its  propositions  were  the  commonplaces  of 
human  speech  and  thought.  The  value  of 
purity,  of  cheerfulness,  of  loyalty,  of 
mercy — this  is  not  gainsaid  by  any  one.  The 
conception  of  duty  as  the  mainspring  of 
human  action  is  very  old  indeed.  For  this 
reason,  doubtless,  Emanuel's  efforts  to 
expound  his  System  by  means  of  books  had 
failed  to  rivet  public  attention.  He  could 
only  insist  afresh  upon  what  was  universally 
conceded,  and  Mr.  Tupper  before  him  had 
done  enough  of  this  to  last  several  genera 
tions. 

„  Viewed  in  operation,  however,  the  System 
was  another  matter.  Our  immemorial  plat 
itudes,  once  clothed  in  flesh  and  blood, 
informed  with  life,  and  set  in  motion  under 
the  sympathetic  control  of  a  master  mind, 
became  unrecognizable. 

Emanuel  as  a  lad  had  thought  much  of  the 
fact  that  he  was  of  the  blood  of  the 
Spinozas.  When  he  learned  Latin  in  his 
early  boyhood,  the  task  was  sweetened  and 
ennobled  to  his  mind  by  the  knowledge  that 
218 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

it  would  bring  him  into  communion  with  the 
actual  words  of  the  great  man,  his  kinsman. 
Later,  when  he  approached  with  veneration 
the  study  of  these  words,  the  discovery  that 
they  meant  little  or  nothing  to  him  was 
almost  crushing  in  its  effects.  Eventually 
it  dawned  upon  his  brain  that  the  philos 
opher's  abstractions  and  speculations  were 
as  froth  on  the  top  of  the  water;  the  great 
fact  was  the  man  himself — the  serene,  lofty, 
beautiful  character  which  shines  out  at  us 
from  its  squalid  setting  like  a  flawless  gem. 
To  be  like  Spinoza,  but  to  give  his  mind  to 
the  real  rather  than  the  unreal,  shaped  itself 
as  the  goal  of  his  ambitions. 

It  was  at  this  period  that  he  became 
impressed  by  the  thought  that  he  was  also 
of  the  blood  of  the  Torrs.  On  the  one  side 
the  poor  lens-grinder  with  the  soul  of  an 
archangel;  on  the  other  the  line  of  dull- 
browed,  heavy-handed  dukes,  with  a  soul  of 
any  sort  discoverable  among  them  nowhere. 
Slowly  the  significance  of  the  conjunction 
revealed  itself  to  him.  To  take  up  the  long- 
neglected  burden  of  responsibilities  and  pos 
sibilities  of  the  Torrs,  with  the  courage  and 
pure  spirit  of  a  Spinoza — there  lay  the  duty 
of  his  life,  plainly  marked  before  him. 

Ensuing  years  of  reading,  travel  and 
reflection  gave  him  the  frame,  so  to  speak, 
219 


ii 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

in  which  to  put  this  picture.  He  had  from 
his  childhood  been  greatly  attracted  by  the 
glimpses  which  his  father's  library  gave 
him  of  what  is  called  the  Mediaeval  period. 
As  he  grew  older,  this  taste  became  a  pas 
sion.  Where  predilection  ended  and  persua 
sion  began,  it  would  be  hard  to  say,  but 
when  he  had  arrived  at  man's  estate,  and 
stood  upon  the  threshold  of  his  life-work,  it 
was  with  the  deeply  rooted  conviction  that 
the  feudal  stage  had  offered  mankind  its 
greatest  opportunities  for  happiness  and  the 
higher  life.  That  the  opportunities  had 
been  misunderstood,  wasted,  thrown  away, 
proved  nothing  against  the  soundness  of 
his  theory.  He  had  masses  of  statistics  as 
to  wages,  rent-rolls,  endowments  and  the 
like  at  his  fingers'  ends,  to  show  that  even 
on  its  reverse  side,  the  medieval  shield  was 
not  so  black  as  it  was  painted.  As  for  the 
other  side — it  was  the  age  of  the  cathedrals, 
of  the  Book  of  Kells,  of  the  great  mendicant 
orders,  of  the  saintly  and  knightly  ideals. 
It  was  in  its  flowering  time  that  craftsman 
ship  attained  its  highest  point,  and  the 
great  artisan  guilds,  proud  of  their  talents 
and  afraid  of  nothing  but  the  reproach  of 
work  ill-done,  gave  the  world  its  magnifi 
cent  possessions  among  the  applied  arts. 
Sovereigns  and  princes  vied  \vith  one  another 

220 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

to    do  honor  to   the  noblest   forms  of   art, 
and  to  bow  to  the  intellect  of  an  Erasmus, 
who   had   not   even   the  name   of   a  father 
to  bear.     Class  caste   was  the  rule   of   the 
earth,  yet  the  son  of  a  peasant  like  Luther 
could  force  himself  to  the  top,   and  compel 
emperors    to    listen   to  him,  more    readily 
then    than    now.       The    bishop-princes    of 
feudal  England  were  as  often  as  not  the  sons 
of  swineherds  or  starveling  clerks,  whereas 
now  no  such  thing  could  conceivably  happen 
to  the  hierarchy.     Above  all  things,  it  was 
the    age   of   human    character.       Men   like 
Thomas  More,  with  their  bewildering  circle 
of  attainments  and  their  extraordinary  indi 
vidual  force,  were  familiar  products.     In  a 
thousand    other    directions,    Emanuel    saw 
convincing  proofs  that  mankind   then   and 
there   had   come  closest  to  the  possibilities 
of   a   golden  age.     True,   it  had  wandered 
off    miserably    again,    into    all   manner   of 
blind  lanes    and    morasses,    until   it    floun 
dered  now  in  a  veritable  Dismal  Swamp  of 
individualism,  menaced  on  the  one  side  by 
the    millionaire  slave-hunter,   on  the  other 
by    the    spectral    anarchist,     and    still    the 
fools  in  its  ranks  cried  out  ceaselessly  for 
further  progress.     Oh,  blind  leaders  of  the 
blind! 

No.     Emanuel  saw  clearly  that  humanity 

221 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

could  right  itself  by  retracing  its  steps,  and 
going  back  to  the  scene  of  its  mistaken  choice 
of  roads.  It  had  taken  the  wrong  turning 
when  it  forsook  the  path  of  coherent  and 
interdependent  organization — that  marvel- 
ously  intricate  yet  perfectly  logical  system 
called  feudalism,  in  which  everybody  from 
king  to  serf  had  service  to  render  and  service 
to  receive,  and  mutual  duty  was  the  law  of 
the  entire  mechanism. 

Though  Christian  heard  much  more  than 
this,  enough  has  been  said  to  indicate  the 
spirit  in  which  Emanuel  had  embarked  upon 
the  realization  of  his  plan.  The  results,  as 
Christian  wonderingly  observed  them,  were 
remarkable. 

The  estate  over  which  the  System  reigned 
was  compact  in  shape,  and  enjoyed  the  ad 
vantage  of  natural  boundaries,  either  of  waste 
moorland  or  estuaries,  which  shut  it  off 
from  the  outside  world,  and  simplified  the 
problem  of  developing  its  individual  char 
acter.  In  area  it  comprised  nearly  fifteen 
square  miles,  and  upon  it,  as  has  been  said, 
lived  some  two  thousand  people.  About 
half  of  these  were  employed  in,  or  dependent 
upon,  the  industrial  occupations  Emanuel 
had  introduced;  the  others  were  more 
directly  connected  with  the  soil.  Whether 
artisans  or  farmers,  however,  they  lived 
222 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

almost  without  exception  in  some  one  of  the 
six  little  villages  on  the  property. 

In  each  of  these  hamlets  there  were  con 
served  one  or  more  old  timbered  houses ;  the 
newer  cottages  had  been  built,  not  in  servile 
imitation  of  these,  but  after  equally  old 
models,  no  two  quite  alike.  As  the  "Fort 
nightly  Review"  article  said,  if  the  System 
had  done  nothing  else  it  had  "gathered  for 
the  instruction  and  delight  of  the  intelligent 
observer  almost  a  complete  collection  of 
examples  of  early  English  domestic  architec 
ture  of  the  humbler  sort."  The  numerous 
roads  upon  the  estate  were  kept  in  perfect 
order,  and  were  for  the  most  part  lined  with 
trees;  where  they  passed  through  the  vil 
lages  they  were  of  great  width,  with  broad 
expanses  of  turf,  shaded  by  big  oaks  or  elms, 
some  of  which  had  been  moved  from  other 
spots  only  a  few  years  before,  to  the  admir  • 
ing  surprise  of  the  neighborhood.  Each 
village  had  a  small  church  edifice  of  its  own, 
quaintly  towered  and  beautiful  in  form,  and 
either  possessing  or  simulating  skillfully  the 
graces  of  antiquity  as  well.  Beside  the 
church  was  a  building  presenting  some  one 
or  another  type  of  the  tolsey-house  of  old 
English  towns,  devoted  to  the  communal  uses 
of  the  villagers.  About  the  church  and  the 
tolsey  was  the  public  garden  and  common, 
223 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

with  a  playground  with  swings  and  bars  for 
the  children  at  the  back — and  there  was  no 
grave  or  tombstone  in  sight  anywhere.  A 
hospitable,  ivy-clad,  low-gabled  inn,  with 
its  long  side  to  the  street,  was  a  conspicuous 
feature  on  each  village  green. 

Christian  retained  a  vivid  recollection  of 
entering  one  of  these  taverns  with  Emanuel, 
very  early  in  his  tour  of  observation.  Above 
the  broad,  open  door,  as  they  went  in,  swung 
the  cumbrous,  brightly  painted  sign  of  "The 
Torr  Arms."  Two  or  three  laborers  in 
corduroys  were  seated  on  benches  at  the 
table,  with  tankards  before  them;  they 
dragged  their  heavily  shod  feet  together  on 
the  sanded  floor,  and  stood  up,  when  they 
saw  Emanuel,  touching  their  hats  with  an 
air  of  affectionate  humility  as  he  smiled  and 
nodded  to  them.  There  was  a  seemingly 
intelligent  and  capable  landlady  in  the  bar, 
who  drew  the  two  glasses  of  beer  which 
Emanuel  asked  for,  and  answered  cheerfully 
the  questions  he  put  to  her.  Two  bright- 
faced  young  women,  very  neatly  dressed, 
were  seated  sewing  in  this  commodious  bar, 
and  they  joined  in  the  conversation  which 
Emanuel  raised.  Christian  gathered  from 
what  he  heard  and  saw  that  his  cousin  took 
an  active  interest  in  the  fortunes  of  this 
tavern  and  of  both  its  inmates  and  its 
224 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

patrons,  and  that  the  interest  and  liking 
were  warmly  reciprocated.  The  discovery 
gave  him  a  more  genial  conception  of  Eman- 
uel's  character  than  he  had  hitherto  enter 
tained. 

"That  is  one  of  my  most  satisfactory  enter 
prises,  ' '  Emanuel  had  said  when  they  came 
out.     "We  brew  our  own  beer, as  well  as  the 
few  cordials  which  take  the  place  of  spirits, 
and   I   really   feel   sure   it's   the   best   beer 
obtainable  in  England.     I  am  very  proud  of 
it — but  I  am  proud  of  these  taverns  of  ours 
too.      That  was  one  of  the  hardest  problems 
to  be  solved — but  the  solution  satisfies  me 
better,  perhaps,  than  anything  else  I  have 
done.     Nobody  ever  dreams  of  getting  drunk 
in  these  'pubs'  of  ours.     Nobody  dreams  of 
being  ashamed  to  be  seen  going  into  them  or 
coming  out.     The  women  and  children  enter 
them  just  as  freely,  if  they  have  occasion  to 
do  so,   as  they   would   a   dairy  or   grocer's 
shop.     They    are   the   village   clubs,    so   to 
speak,  and  they  are  constantly  open  to  the 
whole  village,  as  much  as  the  church  or  the 
tolsey.     But  here  is  one  of  my  parsons.     I 
want  you  to  take  note  of  him — and  I  will  tell 
you  about  his  part  in  the  System  afterward. 
He  is  as  interesting  a   figure  in  it   as   my 
publican." 

A     tall,     fresh-faced,     fair    young    man 
225 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

approached  them  as  Emanuel  spoke,  and 
was  presented  to  the  stranger  as  Father 
William.  Christian  observed  him  narrowly, 
as  he  had  been  bidden,  but  beyond  the  fact 
that  he  was  clad  in  a  somewhat  outlandish 
fashion,  and  seemed  a  merry-hearted  fellow, 
there  was  nothing  noteworthy  in  the  impres 
sion  he  produced.  He  stood  talking  for  a 
few  minutes,  and  then,  with  affable  adieux, 
passed  on. 

"That  is  wholly  my  invention,"  com 
mented  Emanuel,  as  they  resumed  their 
walk.  "  There  is  one  of  them  in  each  of  the 
six  villages,  and  a  seventh  who  has  a  kind 
of  general  function — and  really  I  have  been 
extraordinarily  fortunate  with  them  all. 
They  come  from  my  college  at  Oxford — 
S within 's — and  when  you  think  that  twenty 
years  ago  it  was  the  most  bigoted  hole  in 
England,  the  change  is  most  miraculous. 
These  young  men  fell  in  with  my  ideas  like 
magic.  I  don't  suppose  you  know  much 
about  the  Church  of  England.  Well,  it  drives 
with  an  extremely  loose  rein.  You  can  do 
almost  anything  you  like  inside  it,  if  you  go 
about  the  thing  decorously.  I  didn't  even 
have  the  trouble  with  the  bishop  which  might 
have  been  expected.  These  young  men — 
my  curates,  we  may  call  them — have  among 
themselves  a  kind  of  guild  or  confraternity. 
226 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

They  are  called  Father  William,  or  Father 
Alfred ;  they  wear  the  sort  of  habit  you  have 
seen ;  they  are  quite  agreed  upon  an  irredu 
cible  minimum  of  dogmatic  theology,  and  an 
artistic  elaboration  of  the  ritual,  and,  above 
all,  upon  an  active  life  consecrated  to  good 
works.  They  have  their  own  central  chap 
ter-house,  where  they  live  when  they  choose 
and  feel  like  enjoying  one  another's  society, 
but  each  has  his  own  village,  for  the  moral 
and  intellectual  health  of  which  he  feels 
responsible.  Without  their  constant  and 
very  capable  oversight,  the  System  would 
have  a  good  many  ragged  edges,  I'm  afraid. 
But  what  they  do  is  wonderful.  They  have 
made  a  study  of  all  the  different  tempera 
ments  and  natures  among  the  people.  They 
know  just  how  to  smooth  away  possible 
friction  here,  to  encourage  dormant  energy 
there,  to  keep  the  whole  thing  tight  and 
clean  and  sound.  They  specially  watch  the 
development  of  the  children,  and  make  care 
ful  notes  of  their  qualities  and  capacities. 
They  decide  which  are  to  be  fully  educated, 
and  which  are  to  be  taught  only  to  read  and 
do  sums. ' ' 

"I  am  not  sure  that  I  understand,"  put  in 
Christian .  "Is  not  universal  education  a  part 
of  your  plan?" 

Emanuel  smiled  indulgently.     "There  was 
227 


GLORIA    MUNDI 

never  grosser  nonsense  talked  in  this  world," 
he  said,  with  the  placid  air  of  one  long  since 
familiar  with  the  highest  truths,  "or  more 
mischievous  rubbish  into  the  bargain,  than 
this  babble  about  universal  education.  The 
thing  we  call  modern  civilization  is  wrong 
at  so  many  points  that  it  is  hard  to  say  where 
it  sins  most,  but  often  I  think  this  is  its 
worst  offense.  The  race  has  gone  fairly  mad 
over  this  craze  for  stuffing  unfit  brains  with 
encumbering  and  harmful  twaddle.  In  the 
Middle  Ages  they  knew  better.  The  monks 
of  a  locality  picked  out  the  children  whose 
minds  would  repay  cultivation,  and  they 
taught  these  as  much  as  it  was  useful  for 
them  to  know.  If  the  system  was  in  honest 
operation,  it  mattered  nothing  whether  these 
children  belonged  to  the  lord  of  the  manor 
or  the  poorest  peasant.  Assume,  for  example, 
that  there  was  a  nobleman  and  one  of  his 
lowest  dependents,  and  that  each  of  them 
had  a  clever  son  and  a  dull  one.  The  monks 
would  take  the  two  clever  ones,  and  educate 
them  side  by  side — and  if  in  the  end  the  base 
born  boy  had  the  finer  mind  of  the  two,  and 
the  stronger  character,  he  would  become  the 
bishop  or  the  abbot  or  the  judge  in  preference 
to  his  noble  school-fellow.  On  the  other 
hand,  the  two  dull  boys  were  not  wearied  by 
schooling  from  which  they  could  get  no 
228 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

profit.  The  thick-headed  young  noble,  very 
often  without  even  learning  his  alphabet,  was 
put  on  a  horse,  and  given  a  suit  of  armor  and 
a  sword ;  the  heavy-witted  young  churl  was 
given  a  leathern  shirt  and  a  pike  or  a  bow, 
and  bidden  to  follow  behind  that  horse's  tail 
— and  off  the  two  happy  dunces  went,  to  ful 
fill  in  a  healthful  and  intelligent  fashion 
manifest  destiny.  Those  were  the  rational 
days  when  human  institutions  were  made  to 
fit  human  beings — instead  of  this  modern 
lunacy  of  either  shaving  down  and  mangling 
the  human  being,  or  else  blowing  him  up 
like  a  bladder,  to  make  him  appear  to  fit  the 
institutions.  Of  course,  you  must  under-  x 
stand,  I  don't  say  that  this  medieval  system 
worked  uniformly,  or  perfectly,  even  at  its 
best — and,  of  course,  for  a  variety  of  reasons, 
it  eventually  failed  to  work  altogether.  But 
its  principle,  its  spirit,  was  the  right  one — 
and  it  is  only  by  getting  back  to  it,  and  mak 
ing  another  start  with  the  light  of  experience 
to  guide  us  this  time,  that  we  can  achieve  real 
progress.  Fortunately,  my  parsons  entered 
fully,  and  quite  joyfully,  into  my  feelings  on 
this  point.  They  couldn't  have  labored 
harder,  or  better,  to  make  the  System  a 
success  if  it  had  been  of  their  own  inven 
tion." 

"I  have  seen  English  parsons  often,"  said 
229 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

Christian,  vaguely.  "They  are  always 
married,  n'est  ce  pas?" 

"Oh,  no — no!"  answered  Emamiel,  with 
impatient  emphasis.  "That  would  never  do 
here.  It  is  difficult  enough  to  find  men  fit  to 
carry  on  the  task  we  have  undertaken.  It 
would  be  asking  too  much  of  the  miracle  to 
expect  also  unique  women  who  would  bring 
help  rather  than  confusion  to  such  men.  Oh, 
no — we  take  no  risks  of  that  sort.  Celibacy 
is  the  very  basis  of  their  guild.  It  is  very 
lucky  that  their  own  tastes  run  in  that  direc 
tion — because  in  any  case  it  would  have  had 
to  be  insisted  upon. " 

Christian  wondered  if  he  ought  to  put  into 
words  the  comment  which  rose  in  his  mind. 
"But  you,  and  your  father,"  he  ventured — 
"you  personally — " 

"Ah,"  interposed  Emanuel,  with  a  rapt 
softening  of  expression  in  face  and  tone, 
"when  women  like  my  mother  and  my  wife 
appear — that  lifts  us  away  from  the  earth 
and  things  earthly,  altogether.  But  they 
are  as  rare  as  a  great  poem — or  a  comet.  If 
they  were  plentiful  there  would  be  no  need 
of  any  System.  The  human  race  would 
never  have  fallen  into  the  mud.  We  should 
all  be  angels. ' ' 

After  a  little  pause  he  added :  "The  woman 
question  here  has  been  a  very  hard  nut  to 
230 


GLORIA  MUNDI 

crack.  We  have  made  some  progress  with 
it — but  it  is  still  one  of  the  embarrassments. 
Of  course  there  are  others.  The  restless 
young  men  who  leave  the  estate,  for 
example,  and  having  made  a  failure  of  it 
elsewhere,  come  back  to  make  mischief  here : 
That  is  an  awkward  subject  to  deal  with. 
The  whole  problem  of  our  relations  to  out 
siders  is  full  of  perplexities.  To  prevent 
intercourse  with  them  is  out  of  the  question. 
They  come  and  go  as  they  like — and  of  course 
my  own  people  are  equally  free.  I  can't  see 
my  way  to  any  restrictions  which  wouldn't 
do  more  harm  than  good — if  indeed  they 
could  be  enforced  at  all.  I  have  to  rely 
entirely  upon  the  good  sense  and  good  feel 
ing  of  my  people,  to  show  them  how  much 
better  off  they  are  in  every  way  than  any 
other  community  they  know  of,  and  how 
important  it  is  for  them  to  keep  themselves 
to  themselves,  and  continue  to  benefit  by 
their  good  fortune.  If  they  fail  to  under 
stand  this,  I  am  quite  powerless  to  coerce 
them.  And  that  is  where  the  women  give  us 
trouble.  It  is  the  rarest  thing  for  us  to  have 
any  difficulty  with  the  men.  They  compre 
hend  their  advantages,  they  take  a  warm 
interest  in  their  work,  and  we  have  developed 
among  them  a  really  fine  communal  spirit. 
They  are  proud  of  the  System,  and  fond  of 
231 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

it,  and  I  can  trust  them  to  defend  it  and 
stand  by  it.  But  this  isn't  true  of  all  the 
women.  You  have  always  the  depressing 
consciousness  that  there  are  treacherous 
malcontents  among  them,  who  smile  to  your 
face  but  are  planning  disturbance  behind  your 
back.  It  is  not  so  much  a  matter  of  evil  na 
tures  as  of  inferior  brains.  Let  a  soldier  in  a 
red  coat  come  along,  for  example — an  utterly 
ignorant  and  vulgar  clown  from  heaven 
knows  what  gutter  or  pigsty — and  we  have 
girls  here  who  would  secretly  value  his 
knowledge  of  the  world,  and  his  advice  upon 
things  in  general,  above  mine!  How  can 
you  deal  with  that  sort  of  mind?" 

Christian  smiled  drolly,  and  disclaimed 
responsibility  with  a  playful  outward  gesture 
of  his  hands.  "It  is  not  my  subject,"  he 
declared. 

"But  it  has  to  be  faced,"  insisted  Eman- 
uel.  "My  wife  has  devoted  incredible  labor 
and  pains  to  it — and  on  the  surface  of  things 
she  has  succeeded  wonderfully.  I  say  the 
surface,  because  that  is  the  sinister  peculi 
arity  of  the  affair;  you  can  never  be  sure 
what  is  underneath.  When  you  go  up  to 
London,  you  must  do  as  I  have  done  since  I 
was  a  youth :  take  a  walk  of  a  bright  after 
noon  along  Regent  Street  and  Oxford  Street, 
where  the  great  millinery  and  drapers'  and 
232 


GLORIA  MUNDI 

jewelers'  shops  are,  and  study  the  faces  of 
the  thousands  of  well-dressed  and  well-con 
nected  women  whom  you  will  see  passing 
from  one  show-window  to  another.  There 
will  be  many  beautiful  faces,  and  many  more 
which  are  deeply  interesting.  But  one  note 
you  will  catch  in  them  all — or  at  least  in  the 
vast  majority — the  note  of  furtiveness. 
Once  you  learn  to  recognize  it  you  will  find  it 
everywhere — the  suggestion  of  something 
hidden,  something  artfully  wrapped  up  out  of 
sight.  God  knows,  I  don't  suggest  they  all 
have  guilty  secrets — or  for  that  matter  secrets 
of  any  sort.  But  they  have  the  trained  ^ 
facial  capacity  for  concealment;  it  is  their 
commonest  accomplishment;  their  mothers' 
fingers  have  been  busy  kneading  their  fea 
tures  into  this  mask  of  pretense  from  their 
earliest  girlhood. " 

"Would  you  not  find  it  also  on  the  men's 
faces?"  demanded  Christian,  with  a  dissolv 
ing  mental  vision  of  sly  masculine  visages 
before  him  as  he  spoke.  "That  is  to  say, 
when  once  you  had  learned  to  detect  the 
male  variation  of  the  mask?  And  even  if  it 
is  so,  then  is  not  the  reason  of  it  this — that 
men  have  long  been  their  own  masters, 
making  their  own  laws,  doing  freely  what 
they  choose,  and  there  is  no  one  before  whom 
they  must  dissemble?" 
233 


GLORIA    MUNDI 

Emanuel  had  not  the  temperament  which 
is  attracted  by  contradiction.  He  listened  to 
his  cousin's  eager  words,  seemed  to  ponder 
them  for  a  space,  and  then  began  talking  of 
something  else. 

Those  whom  Emanuel  called  "his  people" 
were  for  the  most  part  descendants  of 
families  who  had  been  on  the  soil  for  cen 
turies — since  before  the  Torrs  came  into 
possession  of  it.  In  a  few  cases,  their  stock 
had  been  transplanted  from  the  Shropshire 
estates  of  the  same  house.  Emanuel  had 
discerned  it  to  be  an  essential  part  of  the 
System  that  its  benefits  should  be  reaped  by 
those  to  whom  his  family  had  historic 
responsibilities.  The  reflection  that  the 
Torrs  in  Somerset  only  went  back  at  the 
farthest  to  Henry  VIII.  's  time,  and  became 
large  landlords  there  so  recently  as  Charles 
II. 's  reign,  saddened  him  when  he  dwelt 
upon  it.  He  would  have  given  much  to 
have  been  able  to  establish  the  System  at 
Caermere  instead,  where  the  relations  be 
tween  lord  and  retainer  had  subsisted  from 
the  dawn  of  tribal  history.  He  dwelt  a  good 
deal  upon  this  aspect  of  the  matter  in  his 
talks  with  Christian.  "If  you  take  up  the 
idea,"  he  would  say,  "you  will  have  the 
enormous  advantage  of  really  ancient  ties  be 
tween  you  and  your  people.  Here  in  Somer- 
234 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

set  we  are,  relatively  speaking,  new-comers— 
merely  lucky  bridegrooms  or  confiscating 
interlopers  of  a  few  generations'  standing. 
I  have  had  to  create  my  feudal  spirit  here 
out  of  whole  cloth.  But  you  at  Caermere— 
you  will  find  it  ready-made  to  your  hand." 

Emanuel  had  created  much  more  besides. 

The  villages  hummed  with  the  exotic 
industries  he  had  brought  into  being.  The 
estate  produced  most  of  its  raw  material- 
food,  wool,  hides,  peat  for  domestic  fuel, 
stone  in  several  varieties  for  building,  and 
numerous  products  of  the  sea.  It  drew  coal, 
wood  and  iron  across  the  channel  from  the 
Caermere  properties.  The  effort  of  the 
System  had  been  from  the  outset  to  expand 
its  self-sufficiency.  Christian  saw  now  the 
remarkable  results  of  this  effort  on  both 
sides.  One  village  had  its  leather  workers, 
beginning  with  the  tanners  at  one  end  and 
finishing  with  the  most  skillful  artificers — 
glovers,  saddlers  and  shoemakers — at  the 
other.  A  second  village  possessed  its  colony 
of  builders — masons  and  carpenters  alike — 
and  with  them  guiding  architects  and 
designers  of  furniture  and  carving.  Here 
also  were  the  coopers,  who  served  not  only 
the  brewery,  but  the  butter-makers.  These 
latter  formed  in  turn  a  link  with  the  great 
dairy  establishment,  which  had  for  its  flank 
235 


GLORIA  MUNDI 


the  farming  lands.  The  gardens,  nurseries, 
orchards  and  long  glasshouses  were  nearest 
to  Emanuel's  residence,  and  their  workers 
made  up  the  largest  of  the  hamlets.  This 
was  in  other  senses  the  metropolis  of  the 
state,  for  here  were  the  printing-press,  the 
bindery,  the  chemical  laboratory,  the  elec 
tric-light  plant,  the  photographic  and  draw 
ing  departments,  the  clergy  house  and  the 
estate  office.  The  smallest  of  the  villages 
was  in  the  center  of  the  stock  farm,  where 
scientific  breeding  and  experimental  acclima 
tization  had  attained  results  of  which  the 
staid  "Field"  spoke  in  almost  excited  terms. 
But  to  Christian's  mind  by  far  the  most 
interesting  village  was  that  nestled  on  the 
sea-shore,  under  the  protection  of  the  cliffs. 
When  he  had  once  seen  this  place,  his  cousin 
found  it  difficult  to  get  him  away  from  it,  or 
to  enlist  his  attention  for  other  branches  of 
the  System.  There  was  a  small  but  sufficient 
wharf  here,  to  which  colliers  of  a  fair  burden 
could  have  access;  shelter  was  secured  for 
the  home-built  fishing  craft  in  the  little  har 
bor  by  means  of  a  breakwater.  The  red- 
roofed,  gray-stone  cottages  clustered  along 
the  winding  roadway  which  climbed  the  cliff 
made  a  picture  fascinating  to  the  young 
man's  eye,  but  his  greater  delight  was  in 
something  not  at  first  visible.  Around  a 
236 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

bend  in  the  cove,  out  of  sight  of  the  village, 
was  a  factory  for  the  manufacture  of  glass, 
and  beyond  this  were  pointed  out  to  him 
other  buildings,  near  the  water's  edge,  which 
he  was  told  were  used  for  curing,  pickling 
and  otherwise  preserving  fish.  "We  make 
our  own  glass  for  the  gardens  and  forcing 
houses,  and  for  all  the  dwellings  on  the  es 
tate,"  Emanuel  had  told  him,  "and  for 
another  use  as  well. ' ' 

The  statement  had  not  aroused  his  curiosity 
at  the  moment,  but  a  little  later,  when  he 
confronted  the  embodiment  of  its  meaning, 
he  murmured  aloud  in  his  astonishment. 
He  found  himself  walking  in  a  spacious 
corridor,  beneath  a  roof  of  semi-opaque, 
greenish  glass,  and  between  walls  that 
seemed  of  solid  crystal,  stretching  onward 
as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach.  A  bar  of 
sunlight,  striking  through  aslant  from  some 
where  outside,  painted  a  central  glowing 
prismatic  patch  of  color,  which  reflected 
itself  in  countless  wavering  gleams  of  orange 
and  purple  all  about  him.  A  curious  moving 
glitter,  as  of  fountains  noiselessly  at  play, 
traversed  the  upper  surface  of  these  glass 
walls,  and  flashed  confusion  at  his  first  scru 
tiny.  Then  he  gave  a  schoolboy's  shout  of 
joy  and  rushed  forward  to  the  nearest  side. 
He  was  in  a  giant  aquarium — and  these  were 
237 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

actual  fishes  of  the  sea  swimming  placidly 
before  him!  Even  as  he  stared  in  bewild 
ered  pleasure,  with  his  nose  flattened  against 
the  glass,  there  lounged  toward  him,  across 
the  domed  back  of  a  king-crab,  the  biggest 
conger  he  had  ever  imagined  to  himself. 
He  put  up  a  hand  instinctively  to  ward  off 
the  advance  of  the  impassive  eel — then 
laughed  aloud  for  glee. 

"Oh,  this  is  worth  all  the  rest!"  he  cried 
to  Emanuel. 

"Yes,  good  idea,  isn't  it?"  said  the  other. 
"It  was  my  wife  who  suggested  it.  We 
had  started  making  our  own  glass — and  really 
this  was  a  most  intelligent  way  of  using  it. 
In  time  I  think  it  will  be  of  great  value,  too. 
We  have  some  clever  men  down  here,  from 
time  to  time,  to  study  the  specimens.  I'm 
sorry  no  one  is  here  for  the  moment.  I 
thought  at  first  of  building  a  residence  for 
them,  and  putting  it  all  at  their  disposal  in 
a  regular  way  as  a  kind  of  marine  observa 
tory,  like  that  at  Naples.  But  after  all,  it 
would  hardly  be  fair  to  the  system.  My  first 
duty  is  to  my  own  people,  and  we've  got 
some  young  men  of  our  own  who  are  making 
good  use  of  it.  There  are  a  hundred  or 
more  of  these  tanks,  and  we  are  fitting  up 
electrical  machinery  to  get  automatic  control 
of  the  water  supply,  and  to  regulate  the  tem- 
238 


GLORIA    MUNDI 

perature  more  exactly.  But  beyond  the  spec 
tacle  of  the  fishes  themselves — our  people 
make  holiday  excursions  here  every  fortnight 
or  so — and  certain  things  we  learn  about  food 
and  fecundation  and  so  on,  I  don't  know  that 
there's  much  to  be  said  for  the  practical 
utility  of  this  department.  Further  on  you 
will  see  the  oyster  and  mussel  beds,  and 
the  lobsters  and  crabs.  I  attach  much  more 
importance  to  the  experiments  we  are 
making  out  there.  There  seems  almost  no 
limit  to  what  can  be  done  in  those  fields, 
now  that  we  have  learned  how  to  go  to 
work.  It  is  as  simple  a  matter  to  rear 
lobsters  as  it  is  to  rear  chickens." 

44 But  it  is  all  wonderful!"  cried  Christian, 
once  more.  "But  tell  me — this  costs  a  great 
sum  of  money.  I  am  afraid  to  think  how 
much.  Is  it  your  hope — shall  you  ever  get 
a  profit  from  it?" 

Emanuel  smiled.  "There  is  no  question 
of  profits,"  he  explained,  gently.  "The 
System  as  a  whole  supports  itself — or  rather 
is  entirely  capable  of  doing  so.  The  capital 
that  I  have  spent  in  putting  the  System  upon 
its  feet,  so  to  speak,  I  count  as  nothing.  It 
belonged  to  the  people  who  had  been  with 
us  all  these  centuries  and  I  have  merely 
restored  it  to  them.  In  the  eyes  of  the  law 
it  is  all  mine,  and  from  that  point  of  view  I 
239 


GLORIA    MUNDI 

am  a  much  richer  man  than  I  was  before 
the  System  began.  But  in  practice  it  belongs 
to  all  my  people.  I  take  enough  to  live 
as  befits  my  station ;  each  of  the  others  has 
enough  to  maintain  him  in  his  station,  com 
fortably  and  honorably.  Whatever  the  sur 
plus  may  be,  that  is  devoted  to  the  objects 
which  we  all  have  in  common.  You  see  it  is 
simplicity  itself." 

44  But  that  is  like  my  brother  Sal  valor's 
doctrine,"  said  Christian.  "It  is  socialism, 
is  it  not?"  Emanuel's  fine  brows  drew 
together  in  an  impatient  frown.  "Please  do 
not  use  that  word, ' '  he  said,  with  a  shade 
of  annoyance  in  his  tone.  "The  very  sound 
of  it  affronts  my  ears.  Nothing  vexes  me 
more  than  to  have  my  work  unthinkingly 
coupled  with  that  monstrous  imposture.  If 
you  will  think  of  it,  I  am  more  opposed  to 
what  is  called  socialism  than  anybody  else  on 
earth.  I  have  elaborated  the  one  satisfac 
tory  system,  on  lines  absolutely  opposed  to 
it.  I  furnish  the  best  weapon  for  fighting 
and  slaying  that  pernicious  delusion  that  the 
whole  world  offers.  So  you  see,  I  have  a 
right  to  protest  when  people  confuse  me 
with  my  bitterest  antagonist." 

"Pardon!"  said  Christian,  with  humility. 
"I  am  so  badly  informed  upon  all  these 
matters!" 

240 


GLORIA    MUNDI 

"Ah,  well,  you  will  understand  them  per 
fectly,  all  in  good  time,"  his  cousin  reassured 
him  in  a  kindly  way. 

Christian  drew  a  furtive  sigh  as  they  moved 
along.  To  his  fancy  the  large  fishes  in  the 
tanks  regarded  him  with  a  sympathetic  eye. 


241 


CHAPTER   XII 

"It  has  done  Emanuel  a  world  of  good  to 
have  you  here,"  said  Kathleen,  on  the  morn 
ing  of  Christian's  leave-taking.  "Of  course 
it  has  been  a  delight  to  us  both — but  he  has 
had  a  personal  benefit  from  it,  too.  He 
works  too  hard.  He  carries  such  a  burden 
of  details  about  in  his  mind — by  day  and  by 
night,  for  he  sleeps  badly  and  is  forever 
dreaming  of  his  work — that  companionship 
with  some  new  and  attractive  mind  is  of  the 
greatest  rest  and  help  to  him.  And  he  is 
very  fond  of  you." 

Christian  nodded  gratified  acknowledg 
ment  of  the  words  and  their  spirit,  with  a 
glow  in  his  dark  eyes.  In  little  more  than 
an  hour  he  would  be  on  his  way  to  London 

that  mighty,  almost  fabulous  goal  of  his 

lifelong  dreams.  He  was  already  dressed 
for  the  journey,  in  a  traveling-suit  of  rough, 
fawn-colored  cloth,  and  as  he  sat  at  ease  in 
the  breakfast- room  with  his  cousin's  wife, 
his  glance  wandered  very  often  from  her 
face  to  a  pleased  contemplation  of  these 
garments.  They  were  what  he  individually 
liked  best  in  the  wonderful  collection  of 
243 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

clothes  for  which  a  fashionable  tailor  had 
come  from  London  to  measure  him,  and 
which  were  this  moment  being  packed  by 
the  man  up-stairs  in  bags  and  portmanteaus 
equally  new.  The  tweeds  enabled  him  to 
feel  more  like  an  Englishman  than  he  had 
succeeded  in  doing  before. 

He  smiled  diffidently  at  her.  "I  am  so 
excited  about  going,"  he  said,  his  voice 
wavering  between  exuberance  and  appeal — 
"and  yet  I  ought  to  be  thinking  of  nothing 
but  my  sorrow  in  leaving  you  dear  people. 
But  that  will  come  to  me  soon  enough — 
in  a  storm  of  homesickness — when  once  I 
find  myself  really  alone." 

"Oh,  I'll  not  deny  we  expect  a  little  home 
sickness,"  she  replied  to  him,  cheerfully — 
"but  it  must  not  be  enough  to  at  all  take  the 
edge  off  your  spirits.  Oh,  you'll  be  vastly 
entertained  and  interested  by  all  you  see 
and  hear.  Young  Lord  Lingfield — you'll  be 
seeing  him  to-night  at  dinner — he  will  be 
greatly  pleased  to  take  you  about,  and 
properly  introduce  you.  He  will  do  it  better 
than  any  other  we  can  think  of.  He  is  not 
by  any  means  an  intellectual  gladiator,  but 
he  is  good-looking  and  amiable  and  he  goes 
everywhere." 

"He  is  my  relation,  too,  I  think  Eman- 
uelsaid?" 

244 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

"Let's  work  it  out — his  grandfather's 
sister  was  your  grandmother.  Yes,  that  is 
it.  She  was  the  Lady  Clarissa  Poynes,  the 
sister  of  the  old  earl  of  Chobham,  who  used 
to  wear  the  blue  coat  and  brass  buttons  to 
the  end  of  his  days.  So  she  would  be  the 
aunt  of  the  present  earl,  and  the  grand-aunt 
of  young  Lingfield.  You  stand  in  exactly 
the  same  relationship  to  Lord  Lingfield  that 
you  would  to  a  son  of  Emanuel's — if  he  had 
one,  poor  man!" 

Christian  had  long  since  become  sensible 
of  the  pathos  which  colored  these  references 
to  the  childlessness  of  the  house.  A  tender 
instinct  impelled  him  to  hasten  a  diversion. 

4  *  And  how  strange  it  is !"  he  cried.  4  4  They 
are  as  close  to  me,  these  people,  in  blood  as 
Emanuel  is — and  yet  I  care  nothing  for  them 
whatever.  I  shall  meet  them,  and  know 
them,  and  not  feel  that  I  am  bound  to  them 
at  all — whereas  Emanuel  is  like  a  brother 
to  me,  whom  I  have  been  with  and  loved  all 
my  life.  And  you,"  he  added,  with  a  smile 
in  his  eyes — "you  are  more  than  any  sister 
to  me." 

4 'Well,  then,  let  me  talk  to  you  like  a 
sister,"  she  rejoined. 

He  thought  he  had  not  seen  her  before  in 
precisely  the  mood  which  was  discernible  in 
her  face  and  tone  this  morning.     Outwardly 
245 


GLORIA   MUNDI 


she  was  as  gay  and  light-hearted  as  ever,  and 
certainly  she  had  not  seemed  on  any  pre 
vious  day  to  come  so  near  being  beautiful  as 
well.  The  sense  of  sheer  pleasure  in  being 
where  she  was,  in  listening  to  her  and  look 
ing  at  her,  and  holding  her  affectionately 
bright  attention  for  his  own  thoughts,  was 
peculiarly  strong  in  him  to-day.  But  there 
was  also  the  consciousness  of  a  new  gravity 
in  her  attitude  toward  him — a  kind  of  yearn 
ing  apprehension  of  dangers  threatening 
him.  He  saw  again  in  her  eyes  when  she 
looked  at  him  that  likeness  to  his  mother's 
glance — a  wistfully  sad  glance  as  he  most 
often  recalled  it.  And  yet  Kathleen  smiled 
merrily  with  it  all,  when  occasion  re 
quired. 

"You  are  entering  upon  the  great  experi 
ence  now,"  she  said  to  him.  "I  think  it  was 
very  wise  of  Emanuel  to  show  you  first  what 
we  may  call  his  ideal  state  of  society.  By 
all  the  rules,  it  ought  to  help  you  to  under 
stand  in  the  right  way  what  you  will  see  of 
the  society  which— well,  which  isn't  in  an 
ideal  state.  But  there  are  certain  things 
which  get  to  be  understood,  not  so  much  by 
brains,  as  by  years.  That  is  to  say,  the  very 
cleverest  youth  may  not  be  able  to  see,  in 
this  one  respect,  what  is  plain  enough  to 
most  dull  persons  at  forty.  Emanuel  tells  me 
246 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

that  he  has  talked  with  you  about  women  in 
general. ' ' 

44 He  does  not  like  them  very  much,"  said 
Christian,  laughingly. 

She  twisted  the  corners  of  her  mouth  in  a 
droll  little  grimace,  which  seemed  to  express 
approval  of  his  mirth,  and  something  more 
besides. 

"He  takes  them  with  tremendous  serious 
ness,  ' '  she  answered.  * '  That  is  his  way  with 
everything.  He  makes  all  sorts  of  classifica 
tions — the  bigger  they  are  and  the  more 
complicated  the  better  he  likes  them — and 
then  he  treats  each  one  as  a  problem,  and 
he  worries  at  it  with  all  his  energy  until  he 
works  out  a  satisfactory  solution.  It  is  only 
in  that  sense  that  he  has  a  grievance  against 
women.  He  has  proceeded  upon  the  theory 
that  the  sex  is  a  unit,  for  philosophical  pur 
poses  at  least,  and  that  he  ought  to  be  able 
to  get  at  the  rules  which  govern  its  actions. 
But  we  continue  to  baffle  him,"  she  added, 
again  with  the  playful  curl  of  the  lips. 

"Oh,  you — you  are  not  in  the  problem," 
protested  Christian.  "For  you  and  his 
mother  he  has  only  the  veneration  one  gives 
to  one's  favorite  saints." 

"His  mother  was  a  great  woman,"  said 
Kathleen,  serious  once  more.  "I  never  saw 
her,  but  she  is  my  patron  saint,  as  you  put 
247 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

it,  quite  as  much  as  his.  I  never  permit 
myself  to  doubt  that  we  should  have  loved 
each  other  deeply — and  it  is  the  sweetest 
thing  any  one  can  think  of  me,  or  say  to  me 
—to  link  us  together.  But  even  the  saints 
have  their  specialties — and  that  implies 
limitations.  I  have  a  notion  that  Emanuel's 
mother  did  not  know  many  women,  and  so 
fell  into  a  way  of  generalizing  about  them. 
Emanuel  has  that  same  tendency.  I,  who 
work  among  them  daily,  and  make  it  my 
business  to  be  teacher  and  mistress  and 
mother  and  sister  to  some  five  hundred  of 
them,  young  and  old,  foolish  and  wise — I 
come  to  believe  that  these  generalizations  are 
entirely  mistaken.  If  a  woman  is  brought 
up  like  a  man,  and  circumstanced  precisely 
like  a  man,  and  knows  nothing  of  any  con 
ventions  save  those  which  control  a  man — 
why,  then  you  can't  tell  the  difference 
between  her  opinions  and  actions  and  those 
of  her  brother.  But  you  never  get  the  chance 
to  view  a  woman  under  those  conditions." 

44 But  here  we  shall  see  them!"  cried  Chris 
tian,  with  premature  enthusiasm.  "You 
will  change  all  that!" 

"Oh,  no,  I  shan't,"  she  answered  abruptly. 

"It  is  not  being  tried — it  is  not  desirable. 

What  I  am  doing  proceeds  quite  on  orthodox 

lines.     We  make  a  point  of  developing  them 

248 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

in  the  way  of  usefulness— material  useful 
ness,  I  mean.  We  teach  them  the  useful 
accomplishments — spinning,  weaving,  sew 
ing,  dairy  and  poultry  work,  and  above  all 
things  good  cooking. ' ' 

"That  I  can  well  believe,"  he  declared. 
"I  have  never  eaten  so  many  good  dishes 
in  my  life  as  here." 

"Yes,  I  have  a  talent  in  that  direction," 
she   assented.      "And  I    am    prouder  of  it 
because   it  represents   a  triumph   over  my. 
ancestral  prejudices.     You  will  get  nothing' 
good   to   eat  in    Ireland.      The   Irish   have 
never  respected    food  as  a   proper    subject 
for  serious  human  thought.     It  is  the  rarest 
thing  to  hear  them  mention  it.     There  may 
be  some  fine  spiritual  quality  in  that— buc  at' 
all   events  we  cook  well  here,  and   I  have 
worked  a  complete  revolution  in  that  respect 
on  the  estate.     There  are  certainly  no  such 
cooks  and   housekeepers  anywhere   else   in 
England  as  my  women.     But  you  see  what  I 
mean.     There  is  no  effort  to  take  women 
away  from  the  work  they  have  always  been 
doing,  but  only  to  make  them  do  it  better." 
"But  that  in  itself  is  very  much,"  urged 
Christian.     Somehow  he  had  the  feeling  that 
he  was  defending  the  System  against  a  critic. 
"Undoubtedly,"  she  admitted.      "And  of 
course   we  do    something  more   than  that. 
249 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

In  a  good  many  cases,  when  it  was  not  incon 
venient,  I  have  put  young  girls  of  aptitude 
forward  to  learn  designing  and  other  arts. 
Some  of  them  have  made  me  some  very 
tolerable  tapestry,  and  a  few  of  them  are  as 
intelligent  and  valuable  in  the  greenhouses 
as  our  best  men.  In  the  matter  of  music 
they  really  beat  them.  Emanuel  insists  on 
a  choir  of  glee  singers  in  each  village — and 
at  Christmas  time  we  have  a  competition  of 
'waits'  which  will  be  worth  your  while  com 
ing  to  hear.  For  my  part,  I  have  a  string 
orchestra  of  girls  that  I  should  not  be 
ashamed  to  have  play  in  London." 

The  word  seemed  to  bring  them  back. 
"You  were  going  to  speak  to  me,"  Chris 
tian  ventured,  "about  London.  One  thing — 
I  shall  see  you  there  often,  shall  I  not?" 

She  slowly  shook  her  head.  "No,  we 
have  outgrown  London,  I'm  afraid.  It  can 
be  proved,  I  believe,  that  it  is  the  biggest 
town  in  the  world — but  to  us  it  is  too  small  for 
comfort.  It  is  now  more  than  a  year  since 
we  have  been  up  at  all.  Why  should  we 
go?  We  have  the  National  Gallery  by  heart, 
and  the  year's  pictures  are  rather  distressing 
than  otherwise.  The  theaters  are  intel 
lectually  beneath  notice.  There  is  the 
opera  of  course,  and  the  concerts,  but  the 
people  annoy  us  by  talking  loudly,  and 
250 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

besides,  we  have  our  own  music,  and  occa 
sionally  we  bring  down  a  Paderewski  or  a 
Sarasate   for  our   people   to  hear.     At   the 
houses  where  we  would    naturally  go,   the 
women  talk  about  matters  of  which  I  know- 
absolutely    nothing,    and     Emanuel    either 
quarrels  with  the  men  about  what  they  call 
their  politics,   or  chokes  silently  with  rage 
and  disgust.     And  then  the  spectacle  of  the 
people  in  the  streets — the  poor  of  London ! — 
that  fairly  sickens  our  hearts.      We  have  no 
joy  of  going  at  all.     Occasionally  we  have 
guests  down  here,  but  it  is  not  a  very  happy 
time  they   have    of    it.     Everything    is   so 
strange  to  them  that  they  are  confused,  and 
walk  about  with  constraint,  as  if  they  were 
being  shown  around  an  asylum.     So  it  hap 
pens  that  I  see  very  few  women  of   my  own 
class — and  really  know  less  about  them  than 
most  people.     And  yet,"  she  added,  with  a 
twinkle  in  her  eye,  "so  naturally  audacious 
a  race  are   the  Irish— it   is   precisely  about 
ladies  in  London  society  that  I  am  going  to 
read  you  a  lecture." 

Christian  drew  up  his  feet,  and  assumed 
an  air  of  delighted  anticipation. 

"First  of  all,  you   are    six   and   twenty, 

and    you    will    be    thinking    of    marrying. 

What  is  more,  you  are  what  is  called  a  great 

match,  and  for  every  thought  that  you  give 

251 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

to  the  subject  of  a  wife,  others  will  give  ten 
thousand  to  the  subject  of  you  as  a  possible 
husband." 

The  young  man  looked  into  her  kindly 
eyes  with  a  sustained  glance  of  awakening 
thought.  This  dazzling  and  princely  posi 
tion  which  she  had  thus  outlined — sure 
enough,  it  was  his !  How  extraordinary  that 
this  had  not  suggested  itself  to  him  before ! 
Or  had  the  perception  of  it  not  really  lain 
dormant  in  his  consciousness  all  the  while? 
This  question  propounded  itself  to  a  mind 
which  was  engrossed  in  something  else — for 
of  a  sudden  there  rose  upon  the  blank  back 
ground  of  his  thoughts  the  luminous  face  of 
a  lady,  beautiful,  distinguished,  exquisitely 
sensitized,  and  as  by  the  trick  of  a  dream  she 
first  wore  a  large  garden  hat,  and  then  was 
bare-headed,  her  fair  hair  gathered  loosely 
back  into  a  careless  knot.  The  mental  pic 
ture  expanded,  to  show  the  full  length  of 
her  queenly  figure  as  she  descended  a  broad 
staircase,  with  one  lovely  hand  like  a  lily 
against  the  oak  of  the  rail.  Then  it  con 
tracted,  and  underwent  a  strange  metamor 
phosis,  for  it  was  another  face  which  he  saw, 
a  pale,  earnest,  clever  face,  and  instead  of 
the  great  stairway,  there  was  the  laced 
tawdriness  of  a  French  railway  compartment. 

Then,  with  a  start,  and  a  backward  move- 
252 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

ment  of  the  head,  he  was  free  of  dreamland, 
and  blushingly  conscious  of  having  stared 
his  cousin  out  of  countenance.  He  laughed 
with  awkward  embarrassment.  "I — I  sup 
pose  it  is  true — what  you  say,  "he  remarked, 
stumblingly. 

She  had  perhaps  some  clew  to  the  char 
acter  of  his  reverie.  She  smiled  in  a  gently 
quizzical  way,  but  went  on  soberly  enough. 
"The  thing  of  all  things,"  she  said,  "is  to 
be  clearly  and  profoundly  convinced  in  your 
own  mind  that  your  marriage  will  be  the 
most  important  event  of  your  life — that  it 
will  indeed  affect,  for  good  or  for  bad,  every 
conceivable  element  of  your  life.  You  have 
the  kind  of  temperament  which  would  be 
peculiarly  susceptible  to  such  intimate  influ 
ences.  There  are  great  numbers  of  men — 
the  vast  majority — to  whom  it  does  not 
matter  so  much.  They  accommodate  them 
selves  to  their  burdens,  and  shuffle  along 
somehow,  with  the  patience  of  a  cart-horse. 
But  you — the  wrong  wife  would  wreck  you 
and  kill  you.  I  am  speaking  frankly, 
laddie," — she  gave  the  novel  word  an  into 
nation  which  made  it  music  in  his  ears — 
"because  you  have  no  mother,  and  because 
you  are  going  into  a  very  trying  and  delicate 
situation  with  what  I  feel  to  be  a  pathetic 
lack  of  preparation. ' ' 

253 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

Christian  drew  his  chair  nearer  to  her,  and 
crossed  his  knees,  and  leaned  back  in  an 
attitude  of  intimate  ease.  The  conversation 
appealed  powerfully  to  him  as  having  more 
of  the  atmosphere  of  domesticity  and  sweet 
home  influences  in  it  than  any  he  had  ever 
heard. 

"I  know  almost  nothing  at  all  of  women," 
he  said,  quite  simply.  "The  mothers  of  my 
pupils  I  saw  sometimes  and  occasionally  a 
sister,  but  they  were  not  in  any  sense  my 
friends.  As  to  marriage — of  course  that  has 
never  been  in  my  head.  Until  only  the 
other  day,  the  idea  of  a  wife  would  have 
been  absurd.  But  now — as  you  say — it  is 
not  any  longer  absurd."  He  paused  and 
gazed  absently  past  her,  as  if  in  pursuit  of 
the  thoughts  his  own  words  had  set  in 
motion.  "I  wonder — I  wonder" — he  mur 
mured,  and  then  turned  his  bright  eyes  to 
her,  full  of  wistful  expectancy.  "Have  you, 
par  exemple,  some  one  in  your  mind  for 
me?"  he  asked. 

She  laughed  and  shook  her  head.  The 
implication  in  his  tone,  of  entire  readiness 
to  accept  the  bride  of  her  selection,  had  its 
amusing  and  its  flattering  sides;  upon  a 
second  glance,  however,  it  contained  some 
thing  else  not  so  much  to  her  liking.  She 
frowned  a  little  at  this  something. 

254 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

"Oh,  you  must  not  approach  the  subject  in 
that  spirit,"  she  adjured  him.  "It  is  the  one 
affair  of  all  others  on  earth  in  which  you 
must  be  guided  absolutely  by  your  own 
heart  and  your  own  mind.  We  speak  of  the 
heart  and  mind  as  distinct  from  each  other; 
I  don't  know  that  they  are  not  one  and  the 
same.  Perhaps  I  would  put  it  this  way — 
when  your  heart  and  your  mind  are  com 
pletely  agreed,  when  your  personal  liking 
and  your  deliberate  judgment  pull  together 
in  exactly  the  same  direction — so  that  it 
seems  to  you  that  they  arc  one  and  the  same 

thing — then — then " 

"Then  what?"  demanded  Christian,  bend 
ing  forward. 

"Oh,  I  am  not  fortunate  in  expressing 
myself  to-day,"  Kathleen  declared,  with  a 
gesture  of  playful  impatience.  "But  in 
general,  this  is  what  I  wanted  to  say:  Do 
not  be  betrayed  into  haste  in  this  matter  of 
deciding  about  a  girl.  You  will  see  a  large 
number  of  extremely  attractive  young  ladies. 
They  will  certainly  not  be  looking  or  behav 
ing  their  worst  for  your  benefit,  and  you  on 
your  side  will  be  lacking  the  experience  to 
tell  precisely  what  it  is  all  worth.  So  walk 
quietly  along,  with  your  wits  about  you,  and 
see  what  there  is  to  be  seen  for  a  time,  and 
commit  yourself  to  nothing.  A  year  hence, 
255 


GLORIA    MUNDI 

for  example,  you  will  look  back  upon  your 
present  condition  of  mind  with  surprise. 
You  will  not  seem  to  yourself  at  all  the  same 
person.  I  can't  promise  that  you'll  be  hap 
pier,"  she  added,  with  a  little  smiling  sigh, 
"but  you  will  know  a  great  deal  more  about 
what  you  want — or  rather  about  making  sure 
that  you  are  getting  what  you  want. ' ' 

44 1  know  what  I  shall  do,"  he  declared, 
after  a  moment's  reflection.  44I  shall  come 
always  to  you,  and  beg  your  wise  and  good 
advice.  You  will  tell  me  if  I  am  making  a 
bad  choice." 

44  You  talk  as  if  you  were  entering  upon  a 
lifelong  series  of  experiments,"  she  laughed 
at  him.  44No,  I'll  undertake  no  such 
responsibility  as  that,  young  man."  She 
explained,  more  gravely :  4 '  It  is  never  quite 
possible  for  a  friend,  no  matter  how  wise  and 
fond  the  friend  may  be,  to  advise  upon  this 
matter.  To  give  information  upon  the  sub 
ject,  that  is  another  affair.  But  specific 
advice,  no.  But  let  me  finish  what  I  had 
in  mind  to  say.  You  have  seen  here,  during 
this  past  fortnight,  what  great  hopes  are 
built  upon  your  administration  of  your 
affairs  when  you  come  into  the  title.  No, 
don't  speak  yet.  You  must  not  pledge 
yourself  at  all  to  the  System.  It  would  be 
unfair  to  let  you  do  it.  But  at  all  events 
256 


GLORIA    MUNDI 

you  have  seen  it,  and  you  will  think  it  all 
over,  and,  whether  you  take  it  up  altogether 
or  not,  I  know  it  will  have  its  effect  on  you. 
You  will  set  an  ideal  of  usefulness  and  duty 
before  you,  and  you  will  have  your  heart 
fixed  on  realizing  it.  Well,  then,  I  counsel 
you  above  all  things  to  keep  that  idea  in 
mind  whenever  you  think  of  marriage.  A 
man  has  a  good  many  sides  to  his  life,  but 
the  side  which  is  most  vital  to  him  is  that  of 
the  work  he  wants  to  do  in  the  world.  If 
the  wife  fits  perfectly  on  that  side,  the  dis 
crepancies  elsewhere  are  of  small  account  by 
comparison.  They  smooth  away,  they 
adjust  themselves.  But  the  misfit  on  the 
side  of  the  man's  ambitions — that  never 
effaces  itself.  And  so,  just  in  proportion  as~ 
the  work  you  want  to  do  becomes  clear  in 
your  mind,  you  ought  to  define  to  yourself 
the  type  of  woman  who  will  be  most  sympa 
thetic  toward  that  work,  and  who  will  best 
help  you  in  it — or  rather,  who  will  help  you 
in  it  in  the  way  you  like  best.  I  don't  say 
you  will  find  the  perfect  type  of  that  woman 
—but  you  should  have  the  type  before  you, 
and  be  able  to  measure  people  by  its  stand 
ards.  But  I  have  harangued  you  long 
enough!  There  is  something  in  the  atmos 
phere  here:  we  all  deliver  lectures  to  each 
other  at  the  most  unscrupulous  length. 
257 


GLORIA    MUNDI 

Poor  boy!     We've  done  nothing  but  make 
speeches  to  you  since  you  showed  in  sight." 

Christian  deprecated  her  suggestion  with 
persuasive  hands.  "I  have  learned  here,  I 
think,  all  that  I  know,"  he  protested.  He 
did  not,  however,  insist  upon  further  gen 
eralizations.  "One  thing  you  said,"  he 
remarked,  thoughtfully,  "puts  a  question 
into  my  head.  You  said  it  was  better  to 
give  information  than  advice.  Now  there  is 
so  much  that  I  am  in  ignorance  about. 
Perhaps  I  do  wrong  to  ask  you — but  I  am 
curious  to  know  more  about  the  people  of 
the  family — our  own  family.  There  are  no 
ladies  of  my  own  blood?  I  mean,  all  I  have 
seen  or  heard  of  come  to  us  by  marriage, 
like  yourself." 

"You  hit  upon  the  weakest  and  unhappiest 
point,"  she  replied.  "There  has  not  been  a 
daughter  born  in  the  Torr  family  for  over  a 
hundred  years.  I  have  always  insisted  that 
this  has  operated  like  a  curse  on  the  family. 
The  beautiful  humanizing  charm  of  little 
girls  about  the  house — this  they  have  never 
felt.  The  mothers  have  had  no  daughters 
to  lean  upon,  the  men  have  never  known 
what  a  sister  was  like.  That  one  fact,  it 
seems  to  me,  is  enough  to  account  for  every 
thing  that  is  hard  and  rough  and  cruel  in 
their  story." 

258 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

Christian  bowed  his  head  in  silent  token 
of  comprehension. 

"I  am  always  more  grieved  than  angry, 
when  I'm  thinking  of  the  black  sheep  in  the 
family  fold,"  she  went  on.  "They  had 
never  a  chance.  It  was  like  a  tradition  in 
the  family  that  the  father  should  be  a  brute 
and  the  mother  a  fool.  A  daughter  here 
and  there  might  have  softened  the  combi 
nation — but  with  little  boys  alone  face  to  face 
with  it — what  could  they  do?  They  grew  up 
in  the  stables  and  the  kennels.  Think  of 
those  two  young  men  whom  you  met  at 
Caermere,  for  example.  Lord  Julius  told 
me  of  their  scene  with  you,  and  I'm  far  from 
blaming  you — but  think  of  their  bringing 
up!  Their  father,  Lord  Edward,  I  remem 
ber  very  well.  I  saw  him  when  I  was  a  girl, 
at  the  Punchestown  races,  and  my  brother 
told  me  his  name.  Even  without  it,  I 
should  have  remembered  his  face  as  the 
coarsest  and  meanest  I  ever  saw.  He 
married  a  woman  out  of  some  vile  gambling 
set  that  he  was  in  as  a  young  man.  She  is 
still  alive  somewhere,  and  has  an  allowance 
from  Lord  Julius  for  suppressing  herself, 
and  not  using  the  family  name.  Well, 
when  I  think  of  the  blood  in  those  two  boys, 
and  of  the  horrors  of  their  childhood  till 
they  were  taken  away  from  their  mother, 
259 


GLORIA    MUNDI 

and  sent  into  the  country  to  school — upon 
my  soul  I  can  only  wonder  that  they  come 
so  near  decency  as  they  do.  Your  encounter 
with  them  happened  to  strike  out  sparks,  but 
you  must  remember  what  a  blow  it  repre 
sented  to  them." 

The  young  man  gave  a  somewhat  per 
functory  nod.  His  sympathies  were  some 
how  obdurate  upon  this  particular  point. 

"Oh,  and  that  reminds  me,"  she  went  on. 
"I  said  that  the  family  was  daughterless — 
but  Eddy  has  a  little  girl.  It  is  very  quaint 
to  think  what  she  will  grow  up  like,  under 
the  maternal  wing  of  Cora  Bayard.  Yet  I 
am  told  there  are  worse  mothers  than  Cora. 
I've  never  seen  her,  myself." 

44 1  saw  her  at  Caermere,"  Christian  re 
marked.  "She  seemed  very  frightened  and 
sad — and  since  it  was  because  of  me,  I  did 
not  look  much  at  her.  I  remember  only  the 
effect  of  a  likeness  to  Pierrot — the  red  lips 
on  the  white  face.  But" — he  drew  his  chair 
still  nearer,  and  betrayed  by  manner  and 
tone  alike  his  approach  to  a  subject  of  more 
than  casual  interest — "the  other  lady  whom  I 
saw  there— Lady  Cressage — I  had  much 
conversation  with  her.  I  feel  that  she  and  I 
are  friends.  I  liked  her  very  much  indeed— 
but  I  have  no  information  about  her  what 
ever.  If  I  am  permitted  to  confess  it — I 
260 


GLORIA    MUNDI 

tried  to  talk  about  her  with  Lord  Julius  and 
with  Emanuel,  but  they  at  once  spoke  of 
other  things.  You  see  how  frankly  I  am 
telling  you  everything;  that  is  because  you 
make  me  feel  so  wonderfully  at  home.  But 
perhaps  you  do  not  like  to  talk  about  her, 
either. ' ' 

She  smiled  pleasantly  enough  in  comment 
upon  his  faltering  conclusion.     "Oh,  I  think 
you  exaggerate  the  conspiracy  of  silence," 
she    answered.      ''Neither  Lord  Julius  nor 
Emanuel  has  anything  hostile  to  say  about 
Edith  Cressage,  but  she  doesn't  quite  appeal 
to  their  imagination,  and  so  they  find  noth 
ing  of  any  sort  to  say.     But  it  is  only  fair  to 
remember   that    they   are   both    men    with 
peculiar  and  exacting  standards  for  women. 
They  would  be  equally  silent  about  a  hun 
dred  other  ladies  of  unblemished  character, 
and  of  beauty  and  wit  untold.     It  is  nothing 
at  all  against   her  that  she  hasn't   excited 
their  enthusiasm.     I  do  not  know  her  at  all 

well,  but  I  think  she  is  very  nice.     Now is 

that  what  you  wanted  me  to  say?" 

The  mild  note  of  banter  which  informed 
her   words  put   Christian   if  possible    even 
more   at  his   ease.     He  stood  up,  with  his 
hands  in  the  sleek  pockets  of  his  new  coat, 
and  bent  down  upon  her  a  joyous  smile. 
"No,  ever  so  much  mor.e!"   he  insisted, 
261 


GLORIA  MUNDI 

gaily.  * '  She  is  very  beautiful ;  she  has  the 
air  and  the  distinction  of  a  grande  dame; 
she  speaks  like  a  flute,  and  what  she  says  is 
clever  and  apropos ;  she  is  unhappy,  and  yet 
with  no  bitterness  toward  any  one;  she 
seemed  to  like  me  very  much,  and,  mind 
you,  she  was  the  first  fine  lady  whom  I  had 
ever  met.  Enfin,  she  is  my  cousin,  and  the 
fact  impresses  me.  What  is  more  natural 
than  that  I  should  be  eager  to  know  all 
about  her?" 

Kathleen  did  not  respond  readily  to  his 
mood.  She  knitted  her  brows  slightly  once 
more,  and  looked  away  from  him  toward  the 
window.  "It  is  rather  hard  for  me  to 
explain,"  she  began  at  last,  doubtfully. 
"From  a  good  many  points  of  view — her  own 
included — I  dare  say  we  do  her  an  injustice. 
Don't  misunderstand  me;  we  are  all  sorry 
for  her — and  I  for  one  have  my  moments  of 
doubt  whether  we  oughtn't  to  be  something 
more  than  sorry. ' ' 

"Yes,  that  is  the  phrase,"  put  in  Chris 
tian,  strenuously.  "I  think  that  I  myself 
am  something  more  than  sorry  for  her. ' ' 

She  looked  up  at  him,  at  first  with  a 
shadow  of  apprehension  in  her  eyes.  Then 
she  estimated  aright  his  enthusiasm  with  a 
gentle  smile.  "I  will  explain  as  well  as  I 
can,"  she  said,  softly.  "As  you  say,  you 
262 


GLORIA   MUNDl 

are  entitled  to  be  told.  The  feeling,  then, 
is — I  am  speaking  of  Lord  Julius  and 
Emanuel,  and  more  or  less  of  myself  too— 
the  feeling  is  that  she  ought  not  to  have 
made  the  marriage  she  did.  Everybody 
knew  that  the  young  man  she  married  was  a 
worthless  creature — a  violent,  ignorant,  low- 
minded  fellow.  You  could  not  see  him, 
much  less  talk  with  him,  without  recognizing 
this.  One  knows  perfectly  well  that  she 
must  have  hated  the  very  thought  of  him  as 
a  lover  or  a  companion.  But  he  is  the  heir 
to  a  dukedom,  and  so  she  marries  him.  You 
see  what  I  mean;  it  seemed  an  unpleasant 
thing  to  us. ' ' 

Christian  considered  with  a  puzzled  air  the 
situation  thus  defined.  "But,"  he  com 
mented,  with  hesitation,  "it  is  the  me* tier 
of  a  young  woman  to  get  a  husband,  and  to 
get  the  best  one  for  herself  that  she  can. 
If  she  is  so  beautiful  that  a  man  wishes  to 
make  her  a  duchess,  why,  that  is  her  triumph. 
Would  you  have  her  forego  it?  And  if  she 
says  'no',  why,  then  the  next  one  he  asks 
says  'yes' — and  it  is  merely  that  the  first  one 
has  waived  her  place  in  the  queue  for 
another.  The  queue  remains  the  same. 
And  if  this  were  not  so,  why,  then,  young 
men  who  are  not  very  good,  they  would  get 
no  wives  at  all.  But,"  he  added,  in  extenu 
263 


GLORIA  MUNDI 

ation  of  his  dissent,  "all  these  matters  are  so 
differently  regarded,  you  know,  in  France." 

She  did  not  look  altogether  pleased  with 
him.  "I  thought  you  would  have  caught 
my  meaning  more  readily,"  she  said, 
"despite  your  Continental  point  of  view. 
For  that  matter,  it  is  the  common  English 
point  of  view  also.  There  is  a  matrimonial 
market,  of  course,  and  girls  offer  themselves 
in  it  to  the  highest  bidder,  and  nothing  that 
we  can  do  will  change  it.  But  at  least  we 
are  free  to  think  what  we  like  of  the  wretched 
business — and  to  hold  our  own  opinions  of 
the  people  who  traffic  in  it." 

Kathleen  had  stated  her  position  with  a 
certain  argumentative  warmth,  which  gave 
her  tone  a  novel  effect  of  reproof.  The 
sight  now  of  the  young  man's  saddened  and 
surprised  expression  sent  her  mood  up  with 
a  rebound.  She  put  a  hand  on  his  arm,  as 
he  stood  before  her,  and  reassured  him  by  a 
kindly  laugh.  "Ah,  now,"  she  said,  with 
genial  pleading  in  her  soft  voice,  "don't  be 
making  a  mountain  of  my  molehill.  I  only 
wanted  you  to  understand  how  we  felt. 
And  as  I  have  told  you,  we  have  our  reser 
vations  about  even  that  feeling.  The  poor 
girl  did  only  what  she  was  expected  to  do — 
what  her  mother  and  her  family  and  all  the 
friends  that  surrounded  her  took  it  quite  as 
264 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

a  matter  of  course  that  she  should  do.  Prob 
ably  she  never  once  encountered  the  opinion 
that  she  should  do  otherwise.  No  doubt 
that  is  to  be  said  for  her.  In  fact,  I  should 
never  have  dreamed  of  blaming-  her  to  you, 
if  you  had  not  pressed  me.  And  after  it's  all 
said  and  done,  you  may  take  it  from  me  that 
perhaps  I  don't  blame  her  so  very  much.  She 
was  poor,  and  not  over  comfortable  at  home, 
I  think,  and  she  was  very  young-,  and  people 
ran  after  her  to  an  extraordinary  extent — and 
to  be  the  beauty  of  the  season  in  London  is 
enough  to  turn  any  one's  head.  Poor  creature 
— it's  bitterly  enough  she's  paid  for  her 
whistle!" 

He  smiled  down  into  her  eyes.  "That  is 
how  I  knew  you  would  end  by  speaking  of 
her,"  he  said.  "It  is  in  that  same  way  that 
she  moves  me — by  my  compassion.  And 
this  is  my  fancy" — he  began,  in  a  more 
vivacious  tone — "I  should  like  to  tell  it  to 
you — it  seems  that  I  am  to  have  the  power 
to  do  so  many  such  wonderful  things — well, 
then,  nothing  would  delight  me  more  than 
to  be  very  good  to  her.  It  is  myfantaisic— 
and  there  is  no  harm  in  it,  is  there? — to  atone 
to  her  for  some  of  the  unhappiness  she  has 
suffered.  I  have  thought  about  it  much 
since  I  left  Caermere.  It  seems  that  it 
would  be  a  good  thing  for  me  to  do — like  an 
265 


GLORIA  MUNDI 

act  of  piety.  You  must  remember — she  was 
the  first  lady  who  spoke  kindly  to  me  in 
England.  And  I  think  you  will  be  pleased 
with  me  for  being  grateful.  But,  of  course, 
if  Emanuel  tells  me  'no' " 

"Oh,  no  one  will  tell  you  'no,'  "  she 
assured  him,  rising  as  she  spoke,  and  looking 
into  his  face  with  beaming  eyes.  "It  is  the 
kind  of  spirit  we  like  in  you.  Never  imag 
ine  that  we  will  be  obstacles  in  its  way. 
Only  be  on  your  guard  against  the  soft  heart 
running  away  with  you.  The  world  is  full 
of  clever  and  adroit  people  who  practice 
upon  innocent  generosity.  It  is  not  so  much 
the  worth  of  what  they  wheedle  from  you, 
as  the  shock  of  your  discovery  of  their  tricks. 
That  hurts  a  young  nature,  and  very  often 
callouses  and  hardens  it.  But  here  I  am, 
lecturing  you  again!" 

Christian  had  not,  in  truth,  been  following 
her  remarks  with  complete  attention.  Some 
thing  had  come  up  in  his  mind,  which  by 
the  time  she  stopped  he  seemed  to  have 
turned  over  and  over,  and  examined  from 
many  standpoints,  and  finally  decided  to 
speak  about. 

4 '  I  was  not  wholly  exact, ' '  he  began,  with 

constraint,  "when  I  said  that  Lady  Cressage 

was  the  first  lady  who  spoke  kindly  to  me  in 

England.     I  mentioned  it  to  Lord  Julius — 

266 


GLORIA  MUNDI 

there  was  a  very  charming  and  good  young 
lady  who  traveled  with  me  from  Rouen,  and 
crossed  on  the  boat — and  it  is  a  very  curious 
thing,  but  when  we  became  acquainted,  and 
I  hinted  to  her  about  my  story,  she  knew 
who  I  was.  Indeed,  it  was  she  who  told  me 
who  I  was.  I  had  the  whole  wonderful  tale 
from  her — and  the  kindness  and  sweet 
sympathy  writh  which  she  told  it  to  me,  a  little 
at  a  time — ah,  that  is  what  I  will  never  forget ! 
I  am  bound  to  remember  her  with  gratitude 
all  my  life.  And  that  is  another  fantaisie 
of  mine — that  I  shall  do  something  good  for 
her.  Oh,  she  has  no  selfish  thoughts!  She 
would  not  even  tell  me  her  name!" 

Kathleen's  comment  was  prefaced  by  a 
mirthful  chuckle.  "I  can't  deny  that  grati 
tude  is  a  very  active  and  resourceful  element 
in  your  composition,"  she  declared,  and 
laughed  again.  "Oh,  we'll  advertise  for 
her.  How  would  this  do:  'The  young  lady 
who  meets  returning  lost  heirs  to  the  British 
nobility  at  Rouen,  and  lets  them  down 
easily'?  Or  we  might — 

4 'Ah,"  Christian  interrupted,  pleadingly, 
"I  am  really  very  sincere  about  her.  You 
cannot  imagine  anything  finer  or  more  deli 
cate  than  her  character.  And  besides," — he 
added  this  with  visible  reluctance — "I  have 
learned  since  who  she  is.  Lady  Cressage 
267 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

told .  me.  She  is  the  sister  of  the  lady  you 
call  Cora — the  wife  of  that  young  man 
Edward — but  she  is  not  an  actress!  It  is 
not  in  the  least  her  type!  She  earns  her 
own  living- — she  has  some  work  to  do — I 
think  it  is  with  a  writing-machine — that  is,  a 
type-writer,  n'est-ce  pas?" 

Mrs.  Emanuel  did  not  immediately  reply, 
but  moved  to  the  window,  looked  out  and 
then  walked  slowly  back  to  where  he  stood. 
"I  am  not  going  to  suggest  an  unkind 
thought  about  this  girl,"  she  said,  deliber 
ately.  "I  would  not  want  you  to  think 
differently  of  her,  or  of  the  grateful  impulse 
you  have  toward  her.  Indeed,  I  have  heard 
something  of  her — and  it  is  much  to  her 
credit.  But — this  sounds  a  mean  thing  to 
say,  and  yet  it  has  its  important  true  side — 
people  should  stick  to  their  class.  Bear  that 
always  in  mind.  There  seem  to  be  brilliant 
exceptions  to  the  rule,  whenever  we  look 
about  us — but  just  the  same,  the  rule  exists. 
But— now  I  will  stop,  once  for  all!"  She 
mused  at  him,  with  a  twinkling  eye.  "You 
poor  lad,  there's  something  about  you  that 
draws  down  lectures  as  a  lightning-rod  draws 
electricity.  And  here's  the  trap!" 

When  Emanuel  returned  from  London  a 
few   days   later,    to   report   that   his  young 
cousin   had   been   comfortably    installed  in 
268 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

chambers  on  Duke  Street,  St.  James's,  and 
seemed  to  get  on  capitally  with  Lord  Ling- 
field,  who  was  showing  him  the  ropes,  Kath 
leen  received  the  news  with  less  than  her 
accustomed  cheerfulness. 

"I  haven't  been  quite  happy,  thinking  of 
him  alone  in  London,"  she  admitted,  in  the 
course  of  their  conversation.  "I  feel,  some 
how,  as  if  we  should  have  gone  up,  and 
taken  a  house  for  the  winter." 

"Ah,  but,  sweetheart,"  he  urged,  almost 
reproachfully,  "you  see  how  I  am  up  to  my 
eyes  in  all  sorts  of  work.  This  is  really 
about  the  most  trying  and  ticklish  stage  we 
have  gone  through  yet.  If  the  fibrous  silk 
processes  are  what  is  claimed  for  them,  and 
your  girls  display  the  aptitude  that  you 
count  upon 

But  Kathleen  for  once  seemed  not  to 
listen.  She  had  turned,  and  moved  a  few 
steps  listlessly  away.  She  took  a  flower  from 
a  vase,  picked  it  to  pieces  and  gazed  in  a 
brown  study  at  the  meaningless  fragments. 

"Yes,  I  know,"  she  remarked  at  last,  with 
a  half  sigh.  Then  she  threw  the  petals  into 
the  grate,  and,  with  a  decisive  little  shake  of 
head  and  shoulders,  wheeled  round,  and 
came  smilingly  to  her  husband. 

"And  whom  did  you  see  in  town?"  she 
asked. 

26q 


PART   III 


CHAPTER    XIII 

Toward  the  end  of  April,  there  came  an 
afternoon  on  which  Christian  seemed  to 
himself  to  wake  up  of  a  sudden  as  from  a 
harassed  sleep. 

He  had  been  in  England  for  over  six 
months,  when  all  at  once  he  became  con 
scious  of  this  queer  sensation:  the  experi 
ences  of  his  half  year  put  themselves 
together  before  his  mental  eye  in  the  aspect 
of  a  finished  volume — of  something  definitely 
over  and  done  with. 

There  was  warm  spring  in  the  London 
air,  and  at  first  the  vague  feeling  of  unrest 
impressed  him  as  a  part  of  the  general 
vernal  effect.  The  device  of  taking  a  stroll 
through  the  parks,  to  note  the  early  flowers 
and  the  wonderful  infancy  of  leafage  among 
the  trees,  seemed  at  the  outset  to  fit  this 
new  mood  that  was  upon  him.  Then 
abruptly  he  wearied  of  nature  and  turned 
271 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

his  back  upon  it,  driving-  in  a  hansom  to  his 
club.  Here  there  was  no  one  whom  he 
knew,  or  at  least  cared  to  speak  with.  He 
sat  for  a  time  in  the  billiard-room,  watching 
with  profound  inattention  the  progress  of  a 
game  he  knew  nothing  about.  From  this  he 
wandered  into  the  library,  where  some 
fierce-faced  old  gentlemen  slept  peacefully 
in  armchairs  about  the  alcoves.  The  sound 
of  their  breathing-  vexed  him;  he  pre 
tended  to  himself  that  otherwise  he  would 
have  found  solace  in  a  book.  The  whim 
seized  him  to  go  home  to  his  chambers, 
and  have  tea  there  comfortably  in  gown 
and  slippers,  and  finish  a  novel  Lady  Milly 
Poynes  had  induced  him  to  begin  weeks 
before. 

Once  in  his  own  easy-chair,  the  romance 
lying  opened  beside  him,  he  put  back  his 
head,  stretched  his  feet  and  yawned.  He 
left  untasted  the  tea  which  Falkner  brought 
in ;  with  fingers  interlaced  behind  his  neck 
he  stared  up  at  the  blue  of  the  sky  through 
his  window  in  formless  rumination. 

His  earlier  glimpses  of  London  were  dim 
enough  memories  now.  The  town  had 
been  described  by  his  cousin  Lingfield  as 
empty  when  he  arrived,  and  after  a  few 
days  of  desultory  sight-seeing,  he  had  been 
carried  off  to  the  earl  of  Chobham's  place  in 
272 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

Derbyshire.  Here,  among  people  who  be 
haved  like  kindly  kinsmen  to  the  young 
new-comer,  yet  failed  to  arouse  much  inter 
est  in  his  mind,  he  learned  to  shoot  well 
enough  to  escape  open  protests  by  the  auto 
cratic  head  gamekeeper,  and  to  keep  his  seat 
in  the  saddle  after  a  fashion  of  his  own. 
These  acquirements  stood  him  in  good  stead 
at  the  four  or  five  other  country  houses  to 
which  the  amiable  Lingfield  in  due  course 
led  him.  Without  them,  meager  as  they 
were,  he  would  have  been  in  a  sorry  plight 
indeed.  They  provided  him  with  a  certain 
semblance  of  justification  for  his  presence 
among  people  who  seemed  incapable  of  amus 
ing  themselves  or  their  guests  in  any  other 
way.  There  were  always  ladies,  it  was  true, 
and  it  was  generally  manifest  to  him  that  he 
might  spend  his  time  with  them  if  he  chose, 
but  after  a  few  tentative  experiments  he  fell 
back  upon  the  conviction  that  he  did  not 
know  how  to  talk  to  English  ladies.  He 
drifted  somehow  through  these  months  of 
hospitable  entertainment,  feeling  that  he 
had  never  known  before  what  loneliness 
could  mean. 

When,   at  Christmas,   he   went   to   spend 

another  fortnight  with  Emanuel,  he  had 'it 

in  his  heart  to  confess  to   disappointment, 

and  even  depression.     He  had  not  thus  far 

273 


GLORIA    MUNDI 


• 


fitted  at  all  into  the  place  which  had  been 
prepared  for  him,  and  he  looked  forward, 
with  wistful  eagerness,  as  he  journeyed 
westward,  to  the  balm  of  sympathy  and 
tender  comprehension  with  which  Kathleen 
and  Emanuel,  dear  people  that  they  were, 
would  soothe  and  heal  his  wounded  self- 
consciousness.  Somehow,  the  opportunity 
of  unburdening  his  troubled  mind,  however, 
did  not  come  to  him.  There  were  other 
guests,  including  Lord  Julius,  and  such 
exceptional  attention  was  devoted  on  the 
estates  to  elaborating  the  holiday  festivities 
of  the  various  villages,  that  no  individual 
could  hope  to  secure  consideration  for  his 
own  private  emotions.  It  was  sometimes 
suspected  that  Emanuel  made  so  much  of 
Christmas  in  his  System,  unconsciously  no 
doubt,  because  the  Jewish  side  of  him  felt 
the  need  of  ostentation  in  its  disavowal  of 
theological  prejudices.  For  whatever 
reason,  the  festival  was  observed  here  in  a 
remarkable  spirit.  The  little  churches  were 
embowered  in  holly  and  mistletoe,  and 
were  the  scenes  of  numerous  ornate  services. 
There  were  processions,  merry-makings, 
midnight  visitatons  of  the  "waits,"  concerts 
and  dances  throughout  the  week,  and  only 
the  strictly  necessary  work  of  the  community 
was  performed  meanwhile.  On  New  Year's 


GLORIA    MUNDI 

t   Day  the   rejoicings    culminated   in   a    chil- 
dren's  carnival  from  one  end  of  the  property 
to  the  other,  with  big  trees  laden  with  lights 
and  gifts  in  the  German  fashion,  and  exhi 
bitions   of    the    magic    lantern,    and    other 
juvenile    delights.      The    fortnight   passed, 
and   Christian  returned  to  London,   as  has 
been  said,  without  having  anything  like  the 
intimate  talk  he  had  expected.     Both  Kath 
leen  and  Emanuel  had  seemed  pleased  with 
him;  they  had  noted  with  approving  com 
ment  his  progress  in  the  use  of  idiomatic 
English,   and  his  rapid  assimilation  of  the 
manners  and  bearing  of  those  about  him; 
they  had  heard  none  but  welcome  reports  of 
him    from  outside,  and  made  clear  to  him 
their  gratification  at  the  fact.     Their  smile 
for  him  was  as  affectionate,  their  display  of 
pleasure  in  his  presence  as  marked,  as  ever, 
but  he  had  the  sense,  none  the  less,  of  some 
thing  altered.     Lord  Julius  bore  him  com 
pany  on  his  journey  to  London,  and  after  a 
brief  halt,  took  him  away  again  for  another 
fortnight,  this  time  at  Brighton.      He  was 
no  more  successful  with   the   father,  in  the 
matter  of  helpful  confidences,  than  he  had 
been  with  the  son.     It  was  impossible  to  tell 
the  strong,  big,  redoubtable  old  gentleman 
of  what  he  felt  to  be  his  weaknesses.     A 
kind  of  desponding  pride  possessed  him,  and 
275 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

closed  his  lips.  He  was  not  happy,  as  he 
had  supposed  he  would  be,  and  he  could  not 
bring  himself  to  feel  that  at  any  point  the 
fault  was  his.  It  was  the  position  that  was 
incongruous.  Yet  how  could  he  complain, 
or  avow  his  discontent,  without  seeming  an 
ingrate  to  the  benefactors  whose  heart  had 
been  in  the  work  of  shaping  and  gilding  that 
position  for  him? 

Parliament  met  this  year  in  January,  and 
Christian  saw  now  a  London  which  he  had 
not  imagined  to  himself — for  which  nothing, 
indeed,  had  prepared  him.  There  came  all 
at  once  a  great  many  invitations,  and  the 
young  man,  surprised  and  not  a  little  dis 
mayed,  called  Lord  Lingfield  to  his  assist 
ance.  The  prospect  unfolded  to  him  by  this 
accomplished  professor  of  the  proprieties 
was  terrifying  enough.  At  the  end  of  a 
week  Christian  cried  out  that  the  reality  was 
too  much.  But  Lingfield  could  see  no  alter 
native  to  going  on.  "You  will  get  used  to 
it  soon  enough,  now  that  you  have  once  taken 
the  plunge,"  he  assured  him.  "There 
are  certain  things  that  a  fellow  has  to  do, 
you  know,  when  he's  in  London  in  the 
season,  or  even  now,  in  what  you  may  call 
the  half  season,  unless  he's  going  to  chuck 
the  thing  altogether."  Christian  replied 
with  excitement  that  this  was  precisely  what 
276 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

he  wished  to  do.  In  his  own  mind  he  had 
already  reached  the  point  of  debating 
whether  he  could  honorably  go  on  using  the 
money  placed  to  his  credit  at  the  bank,  most 
of  which  was  still  there,  if  he  fled  from 
London,  and  even  England. 

Lord  Ling-field  was  a  fine  young  man, 
irreproachable  in  attire  and  manners,  who 
expected  to  do  something  in  politics,  and 
who  regarded  his  duty  both  to  the  future 
which  he  hoped  to  create  for  himself,  and  to 
the  immediate  present  which  had  been 
created  for  him,  with  conscientious  gravity. 
He  had  never  thought  of  lightening  or  evad 
ing  the  tasks  set  before  him ;  he  had  no  per 
ception  whatever  of  the  possibility  of 
making  such  things  easier  for  others.  He 
assured  Christian  with  gentle  solemnity  that 
desertion  was  not  to  be  mentioned,  and  that 
even  mitigation  was  undesirable.  "It  has 
all  been  arranged  for  you,"  he  urged. 
"Upon  my  word,  you  are  very  lucky.  You 
have  been  to  two  houses  already  where  I 
never  get  asked  except  to  luncheon,  and 
here  is  a  card  here  which  I  could  hardly 
believe  my  eyes  to  see  To  trifle  with  such 
chances  would  be  simple  madness.  You 
will  get  to  have  all  London  at  your  fingers' 
ends,  your  very  first  season.  Such  a  start 
as  you're  likely  to  have,  I've  never  seen  in 
277 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

my  life.  My  dear  fellow — you  don't  under 
stand  what  it  means." 

44 But  I'm  tired  to  death!"  groaned  Chris 
tian.  "No  doubt  they  are  excellent  people, 
but  they  weary  me  to  the  bone.  The  din 
ners,  the  calls,  the  receptions,  the  dances — I 
have  no  talent  whatever  for  these  things.  It 
is  very  kind  of  these  people — but  I  know  I 
am  ridiculous  in  it  all.  I  give  them  no 
pleasure,  and  God  knows  I  receive  none. 
Then  why  must  it  go  on?  For  whose  bene 
fit  is  it?  I  swear  to  you,  I  would  not  mind 
the  labor  and  fatigue,  if  it  was  any  good 
that  I  was  doing.  Emanuel,  for  example, 
toils  like  a  slave,  but  then  his  work  has 
great  results.  But  this  of  mine !" 

"Ah,  yes,"  interposed  Lingfield,  smilingly. 
"But  Emanuel  could  never  have  made  much 
running  in  London.  He  disputes  with 
people  too  much,  don't  you  know.  They 
don't  like  that.  And  I  think  you  make 
much  too  hard  work  of  it  all.  There's  no 
need  for  you  to  talk,  you  know.  It  isn't 
expected  of  you.  And  I  don't  see  why  you 
can't  move  quietly  along,  going  everywhere, 
being  seen  at  the  right  places,  and  being 
civil  to  everybody,  and  not  worry  yourself  at 
all.  That's  what  you  need,  my  dear  boy — 
repose !  Let  the  other  people  do  the  worry. 
Now,  of  course,  in  a  case  like  Dicky  West- 
278 


GLORIA  MUNDI 

land's  it's  different.  He  has  to  be  amusing 
and  useful,  or  he  wouldn't  get  asked.  But 
you  are  not  on  all  fours  with  him  at  all. 
To  tell  the  truth— no  doubt  it'll  sound 
strange  to  you,  but  it  is  the  truth  all  the 
same — it's  better  form  for  you  not  to  be 
amusing,  or  brilliant,  or  that  sort  of  thing. 
Fellows  in  your  place  don't  go  in  for  it,  you 
know. ' ' 

Christian  sighed,  and  chafing  at  the  neces 
sity  of  submission,  still  submitted. 

Now,  as  he  lay  back  in  his  chair,  the 
retrospect  was  augmented  by  six  other 
weeks,  in  which  he  had  passively  yielded  to 
what  Lingfield  had  assured  him  was  the 
inevitable.  He  had  dined  out  almost  every- 
night,  and  had  made  countless  calls.  It 
seemed  to  him  that  he  must  have  met  every 
body  in  this  huge  metropolis  who  had  a  pair 
of  shoulders  or  possessed  a  dress  coat.  He 
yawned  at  the  thought  of  them. 

Was  he  not  himself  to  blame  for  this?  At 
Christmas  time  he  had  been  quite  confident 
in  answering  "no"  to  this  question;  now  he 
did  not  feel  so  sure  about  it.  At  one  place 
or  another  he  had  come  into  contact  with 
most  of  the  members  of  the  government, 
and  with  many  of  those  distinguished  states 
men  on  the  opposite  bench  who,  by  the 
grace  of  the  genial  British  electorate,  would 
279 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

be  ministers  next  time.  He  had  talked  with 
eminent  artists,  eminent  scientists,  eminent 
writers,  eminent  soldiers  and  sailors,  and 
watched  them  and  listened  to  them  as  they 
sat  over  their  cigars,  or  moved  about  among 
the  ladies  in  the  drawing-rooms.  Hostesses 
whose  cordial  good  will  toward  him  seemed 
equaled  only  by  their  capable  control  over 
others,  had  said  to  him  time  and  time  again : 
44  If  there  is  any  one  you  want  to  know,  tell 
me."  The  phrase  lingered  in  his  mind  as  a 
symbol  of  his  position.  He  had  merely  to 
mention  his  wish,  like  some  lucky  person  of 
the  fables  who  possessed  a  talisman.  It 
could  not  be  said  that  he  had  used  his  magic 
power  foolishly  or  perversely.  He  had 
followed  in  dutiful,  painstaking  solicitude 
the  path  marked  out  for  him  by  his  advisers. 
He  had  done  the  best  that  was  in  him  to  do ; 
he  had  gone  wherever  Lingfield  bade  him 
go ;  he  had  loyally  kept  awake  late  at  night ; 
he  had  smiled  and  bowed  and  spoken  affable 
words;  he  had  fulfilled  punctually  all  the 
engagements  imposed  upon  him.  What 
was  more,  he  could  no  longer  pretend  that 
he  made  a  failure  of  the  thing;  it  was 
known  to  him  that  he  had  created  a  pleas 
ant  impression  upon  London,  and  that 
people  liked  him. 

For  all  that,  he  could  not  feel  that  in  turn 
280 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

he  liked  these  people.  Among  those  of 
whom  he  had  seen  the  most,  was  there  any 
whom  he  profoundly  desired  ever  to  see 
again?  He  passed  some  random  figures  in 
mental  review,  and  suffered  them  to  vanish 
without  thrusting  forth  any  tentacle  of 
thought  to  detain  them.  They  had  not 
entered  his  real  life ;  they  meant  nothing  to 
him.  Positively  he  was  as  much  alone  in 
London  to-day  as  he  had  been  when  he  first 
set  foot  in  it.  Indeed,  was  he  not  the  poorer/ 
to-day  by  all  those  lost  illusions  and  joyous,/ 
ardent  hopes  now  faded  to  nothingness?  In 
return  for  these  departed  treasures,  he  had 
only  empty  hands  to  show — and  a  jaded, 
futilely  mutinous,  empty  mind  as  well. 

The  soft,  equable  tinkle  of  the  door-bell 
caught  his  ear,  but  scarcely  arrested  his 
attention.  Perhaps  unconsciously  the  sound 
served  to  polarize  his  thoughts,  for  suddenly 
it  became  apparent  to  him  that  he  was  in 
revolt.  All  this  intolerable  social  labor  was 
ended  for  him — definitely  and  irrevocably 
ended.  He  would  not  dine  at  another 
house ;  he  would  burn  forthwith  his  basket 
of  cards,  and  the  little  book  with  its  foolish 
record  of  ladies'  days  "at  home." 

He  sat  up  and  sipped  at  his  lukewarm 
tea,  with  the  glow  of  a  new  resolve  on  his 
face, 

281 


GLORIA  MUNDl 

Falkner — a  smooth-mannered,  assiduous, 
likable  man  of  middle  age  whom  Emanuel 
had  given  him  from  his  own  household — 
entered  the  room  to  announce  a  caller.  A 
brisk,  alert  tread  on  the  polished  hall  floor 
behind  him  cut  into  his  words,  so  that 
Christian  did  not  catch  them.  He  rose,  and 
looked  inquiringly. 

For  an  instant,  he  felt  that  he  was  not  glad 
to  see  the  person  who  came  in.  It  was  a 
young  man  of  about  his  age,  tall  and  fair, 
and  handsome  in  a  buoyant,  bright-faced 
way  of  his  own.  His  blue  eyes  sparkled 
cheerfully  into  Christian's  doubtful  glance, 
and  he  held  out  a  hand  as  he  advanced. 
Everybody  in  the  world  called  him  Dicky 
Westland,  and  for  this  opening  moment 
Christian  thought  of  him  as  preeminently 
typical  of  all  the  vanities  and  artificialities 
he  was  on  the  point  of  forswearing. 

"Not  seedy,  I  hope?"  the  new-comer 
said  in  comment  upon  the  other's  loose  attire 
— and  perhaps  upon  his  dubious  countenance 
as  well.  His  voice  had  a  musical  vivacity 
in  it  which  seemed  to  lighten  the  room. 
Christian,  as  he  took  the  hand  and  shook  his 
head,  smiled  a  little.  It  began  to  occur  to 
him  that  really  he  did  like  this  young  man. 

"No,"  he  replied,  with  a  gesture  toward  a 
chair.      "I'm    all    right.      Only    the   whim 
282 


GLORIA  MUNDI 

seized  me — to  come  home  and  read  a  book. 
I  got  homesick,  I  think." 

This  statement,  once  in  the  air,  seemed 
funny  to  the  young  men,  and  Dicky  West- 
land  laughed  aloud.  Christian,  sitting  down 
opposite  his  visitor,  felt  himself  sharing  his 
animation.  "It  was  good  of  you  to  come," 
he  declared,  with  a  refreshed  tone.  "The 
truth  is,  I'm  tired  out.  I  am  up  too  late. 
I  run  about  too  much." 

"Yes,  a  fellow  does  get  hipped,"  assented 
Dicky.  "But  you  are  so  tremendously 
regular,  it  doesn't  do  you  any  harm.  A 
days'  rest  now  and  then,  and  you're  right  as 
a  trivet  again. ' ' 

"Regular,"  Christian  repeated,  musingly. 
He  formed  his  lips  to  utter  some  reflection 
upon  the  theme,  and  then  closed  them  again. 
"Will  you  have  a  cup  of  tea?"  he  asked, 
with  the  air  of  thinking  of  something  else. 

The  other  shook  his  head,  and  preserved 
a  posture  of  vivacious  anticipation,  as  if 
Christian  had  made  a  literal  promise  to 
unburden  his  mind.  The  suggestion  was  so 
complete  that  Christian  accepted  it  as  a 
mandate. 

"I  am  glad  you  came,"  he  said,  "because 

— well,  because  I  have  come  to  a  conclusion 

in  my  mind,  and  I  should  like  to  put  it  into 

words  for  you — so  that  I  can  also  hear  it  my- 

283 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

self.     I  am  resolved  to  go  away — to  leave 
London. ' ' 

Dicky  lifted  his  brows  in  puzzled  interro 
gation.  "How  do  you  mean?"  he  asked. 

"I  do  not  like  it,"  Christian  replied, 
speaking  more  readily  now,  and  enforcing  his 
words  with  eager  hands.  Lingfield  had 
cautioned  him  against  this  gesticulatory 
tendency,  but  the  very  consciousness  that 
he  was  in  rebellion  brought  his  hands  up 
ward  into  the  conversation.  "It  is  not  what 
I  care  for.  I  come  into  it  too  late,  no  doubt, 
to  understand — appreciate  it,  properly. 
The  people  I  meet — I  have  no  feeling  for 
them.  It  seems  a  waste  of  my  time  to  sit 
with  them,  to  stand  and  talk,  to  go  about 
from  one  of  their  houses  to  another.  At 
the  end  of  it  all,  there  is  nothing.  They 
have  all  thick  shells  on,  and  they  are  not 
going  to  let  me  get  inside  of  them.  And, 
moreover,  if  I  did  get  inside,  who  can  be 
sure  there  would  be  anything  of  value  there? 
It  does  not  often  look  so  to  me,  from  the 
outside.  But  it  is  a  waste  of  time  and  labor, 
and  it  does  not  amuse  me  in  the  least,  and 
why  should  I  pursue  it?" 

"Quite  right!"  said  Dicky. 

"Then  you  agree  with  me? — you  ap 
prove?"  asked  Christian,  not  concealing  his 
surprise. 

284 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

"Of  course  I  do.  It's  awful  rot,"  the 
other  affirmed.  He  observed  his  host 
silently  for  a  space,  and  meanwhile,  by  a 
quite  visible  process,  the  familiar  external 
elasticity,  not  to  say  flippancy,  of  his  man 
ner  seemed  to  fall  away  from  him.  "With 
me,  of  course,"  he  went  on,  almost  gravely, 
**I  have  to  do  it.  I  must  get  my  secretary 
ship,  or  I  can't  live.  My  relations  could 
put  me  into  the  swim,  but  they  can't  support 
me  there  indefinitely.  I  have  only  two 
aunts,  you  know — dear  old  things,  they  are 
— and  they  keep  me  going,  but  they  have 
only  life  interests,  and  I  fancy  they  have  to 
scrape  a  little  as  it  is. 

"So  you  see,"  pursued  Dicky  Westland,  "I 
must  help  myself,  and  it's  only  by  knowing 
the  right  people,  and  being  seen  at  the  right 
places,  that  a  fellow  can  bring  anything  off. 
For  example,  now:  Lady  Winsey  is  a 
distant  cousin  of  mine,  and  she's  promised 
the  aunts,  you  know,  and  there's  an  old  Sir 
Hogface  Something-or-Other  dodging  about 
the  place,  who's  going  to  get  a  West  Indian 
governorship  in  May,  and  Lady  Winsey  has 
not  only  had  him  at  her  house  to  dinner, 
where  he  could  see  me,  but  has  contrived  to 
throw  me  at  him  at  three  other  houses. 
Next  week  I'm  to  go  down  to  a  closing  meet 
in  Berkshire,  just  because  he's  to  be  there — 
285 


GLORIA  MUNDI 

and  that  she  arranged,  too.  And  it's  all  to 
get  a  place  worth  perhaps  three  hundred  a 
year,  with  yellow  fever  thrown  in — if  it 
comes  to  anything  at  all.  " 

"Three  hundred  a  year,"  commented 
Christian,  knitting  his  brows.  "I  still  make 
pounds  into  francs  to  know  what  a  sum 
means,"  he  explained,  smilingly,  after  a 
moment.  "Once  I  would  have  thought  that 
a  great  fortune — and  only  a  few  months  ago, 
too,  at  that." 

1 '  Well,  you  see  how  it  is, ' '  said  Dicky.  ' '  I 
mustn't  let  any  chance  slip  by.  But  if  I 
stood  in  your  shoes,  dear  God !  how  I  would 
chuck  it  all!" 

"But  what  would  you  do  instead?"  Chris 
tian  propounded  this  question  sitting  back 
in  his  chair,  with  the  tips  of  his  fingers  joined, 
and  a  calm  twinkle  in  his  eye.  He  discovered 
himself  feeling  as  if  it  were  his  companion 
who  had  made  confessions  and  craved 
sympathy. 

Dicky  looked  into  his  hat,  and  pouted  his 
lips  in  whimsical  indecision.  "What  I  mean 
is,"  he  explained  at  last — "my  point  was 
this — I  hate  the  whole  thing,  and  if  I  didn't 
have  to  do  it,  why  then  I  wouldn't  do  it,  d'ye 
see?  I'd  go  about  with  nobody  except  the 
people  I  really  cared  about — my  right-down, 
intimate  friends.  That's  the  idea." 
236 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

" Ah— friends!"  said  Christian.  "That  is 
the  word  that  sings  in  my  ears!" 

He  rose  impulsively,  and  began  walking 
about  the  room  with  a  restless  step.  Now 
and  again  he  halted  briefly  to  look  down 
upon  his  companion,  to  enforce  with  eyes  as 
well  as  gesture  some  special  thing  in  his 
talk.  '4 Yes,  friends!"  he  cried.  "Tell  me, 
you  Dicky  Westland,  where  are  friends  to 
be  found?  Have  you  some,  perhaps?  Then 
where  did  you  come  upon  them?  It  is  what 
I  should  like  very  much  to  know.  Listen  to 
me!  I  have  been  in  England  six  months. 
I  possess  in  England,  say  two — three — no, 
five  friends — and  all  these  came  to  me  in 
my  first  week  here.  All  but  one  belong  to 
my  family,  so  they  were  here,  ready-made 
for  me.  But  since  that  time,  now  that  I 
am  for  myself,  I  have  not  gained  one  friend. 
Is  there  then  something  strange — what  do  I 
say — forbidding  in  me?  Or  no — it  is  non 
sense  for  me  to  say  that.  It  is  the  other  way 
about.  I  have  seen  nobody  who  awakened 
voices  within  me.  There  has  been  no  one 
who  appealed  to  me  as  a  friend  should 
appeal.  I  live  among  a  thousand  rich  and 
fine  people  who  are  as  good  to  me  as  they 
know  how  to  be — and  yet  I  am  as  if  I  lived 
in  a  desert.  And  it  is  very  cold — and  lonely 
— and  heartbreaking  in  this  desert  of  mine !" 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

Westland  looked  at  him,  as  he  stood  now 
in  the  pathetic  abandonment  of  his  perora 
tion,  with  a  contemplative  squint  in  one  eye. 

"I  see  what  you  mean,"  he  remarked 
finally.  "You've  been  looking  for  flesh  and 
blood,  and  you  find  only  gun-metal."  He 
thrust  out  his  lips  a  little,  and  gave  further 
consideration  to  the  problem.  "There  isn't 
any  need  for  you  to  go  away,  you  know," 
he  added  after  a  pause.  "You  can  have  any 
kind  of  life  you  like  in  London.  It  is  all 
here,  if  you  want  it.  But  what  is  it  that 
you  do  want?" 

Christian  threw  himself  sidewise  into  his 
chair,  and  bent  his  head  with  a  sigh.  Then, 
with  a  new  light  in  his  eyes,  he  looked  up. 
"You  yourself  said  it"— he  exclaimed— "to 
see  only  my  true  friends.  That  is  my  idea 
of  life:  To  have  a  small  circle  of  people 
whom  I  love  very  much,  and  to  make  con 
stant  opportunities  to  be  with  some  of  them 
—talking  as  we  like  to  talk,  going  about 
together,  making  life  happy  for  one  another 
as  we  go  along.  All  my  youth,  I  envied 
rich  people,  because  I  thought  that  they  used 
their  wealth  to  command  this  greatest  of 
delights.  I  imagined  that  if  one  had  much 
money,  then  one  could  afford  to  spend  his 
time  only  with  his  close,  dear  friends.  But 
what  I  discover  is  that  they  do  something 
233 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

entirely  different.  They  seem  not  to  let 
friendship  come  into  their  lives  at  all.  They 
desire  only  acquaintances,  and  of  these  the 
more  they  have  the  better,  if  they  bear  the 
proper  cachet." 

"It  is  the  women,"  said  Dicky,  senten- 
tiously.  ''They  like  the  crowd,  and  the  new 
faces.  And  what  they  like,  of  course  they 
have.  They  run  the  whole  show. " 

Christian  nodded  comprehension  —  then 
put  out  a  hand  to  signalize  a  reservation. 
"I  know  women — here  in  England — who 
have  a  higher  idea  than  this,"  he  declared, 
softly. 

"Of  course,  so  we  all  do,"  assented  West- 
land.  *  *  There  are  a  million  splendid  women, 
if  one  could  only  get  at  them.  But  it's  a 
sort  of  trades  union,  don't  you  know.  You 
don't  take  the  workmen  you  want,  on  your 
own  terms ;  you  take  those  the  society  gives 
you,  and  the  terms  are  arranged  for  you. 
It's  like  that  with  women.  You  meet  some 
awfully  jolly  girls  now  and  then,  but  they 
are  not  in  the  least  degree  their  own  masters. 
If  you  try  to  get  to  know  them  well,  either 
they're  frightened,  and  pull  back  into  their 
shells,  or  you're  headed  off  by  their  mothers. 
But,"  he  added  upon  reflection — "of  course 
it's  different  with  you.  " 

"At  least  I  am  not  interested,"  said  Chris- 
289 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

tian,  wearily.  The  advice  of  Kathleen  had 
produced  upon  his  mind  an  even  greater 
effect,  perhaps,  than  he  imagined.  He  had 
encountered,  by  the  dozen,  extremely  beauti 
ful  and  engaging  girls,  whose  charm  should 
have  been  enhanced  in  his  eyes  by  the 
dignity  and  even  grandeur  of  their  surround 
ings.  But  an  impalpable  yet  efficient  barrier 
had  stood  always  between  them  and  him. 
If  they  exhibited  reserve,  he  was  too  shy  for 
words.  If  they  expanded  toward  him  with 
smiles  or  any  freedom  of  demeanor,  he 
recalled  instantly  the  warning  of  Emanuel's 
wife,  and  that  was  fatal.  "I  have  not  cared 
for  any  of  them, ' '  he  reaffirmed. 

"Oh!"  cried  Westland  of  a  sudden,  his 
comely,  boyish  face  beaming  with  the 
thought  that  had  come  to  him.  * '  How  stupid 
of  me!  I'd  forgotten  what  I  came  for — and 
I'm  not  sure  it  doesn't  precisely  fill  the  bill. 
Are  you  doing  anything  to-night?  Will  you 
come  with  me  to  the  Hanover  Theater  at 
midnight?  It's  the  five -hundredth  per 
formance  of  'Pansy  Blossoms' — and  there's 
to  be  supper  on  the  stage  and  a  dance.  I 
don't  think  you've  seen  much  of  that  sort  of 
thing,  have  you?" 

Christian  shook  his  head,  and  regarded  his 
companion  doubtfully.  "Nothing  at  all  of 
it, ' '  he  said,  slowly.  4 1  But  it  does  not  attract 
290 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

me  very  much,  I'm  afraid.  You  would 
better  take  some  one  else.  I  should  be  a  fish 
out  of  water  there.  The  people  of  the 
theaters — they  are  not  congenial  to  me — that 
is,  I  do  not  think  they  would  be." 

"But,  hang  it  all,  man,  how  do  you  know 
till  y ou've  tried?"  Dicky  put  a  little  worldly 
authority  into  his  tone  as  he  proceeded. 
"You  mustn't  mind  my  saying  it  to  you — it 
is  you  who  make  your  own  desert,  as  you 
call  it,  for  yourself.  If  you  say  in  advance 
that  you  know  you  won't  like  this  sort  of 
person,  or  that,  how  are  you  ever  going  to 
form  any  friendships?" 

Christian  received  the  remonstrance  with 
meekness.  "You  do  not  quite  understand 
me, ' '  he  said,  amiably  enough.  '  *  I  have  some 
work  to  do  in  the  world,  and  I  don't  think 
that  actresses  and  actors  would  help  me 
much  to  do  it.  The  young  men  who  run 
after  them  do  not  seem,  somehow,  to  do 
much  else.  It  is  only  a  prejudice  I  have; 
it  applies  only  to  myself.  If  others  feel 
differently,  why,  I  have  not  a  word  to 
say. ' ' 

"No,  you  must  come!"  Westland  declared, 
rising.  "It's  nonsense  for  you  not  to  see 
that  side  of  things.  My  dear  fellow,  it's  as 
respectable  as  the  Royal  Academy — or 
Madame  Tussaud's.  Are  you  dining  any- 
291 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

where?  Then  I'll  run  home  and  dress,  and 
I'll  drive  round  here  for  you.  We'll  dine 
together,  and  then  look  in  at  some  of  the 
halls.  Shall  I  say  seven?  It  gives  us  more 
time  over  our  dinner." 

Christian  accepted,  with  a  rueful  little 
smile,  his  committal  to  the  enterprise.  "You 
must  not  mind  if  I  come  away  early,"  he 
said,  getting  to  his  feet  in  turn. 

The  other  laughed  at  him.  "My  dear 
man,  you'll  never  want  to  come  away  at  all. 
But  no,  seriously — it's  just  the  kind  of  thing 
you  want.  It'll  amuse  you,  for  one  thing — 
and  deuce  take  it,  you'll  be  young  only  once 
in  your  life.  But  more  than  that — here  you 
are  swearing  that  you'll  do  no  more  social 
work  at  all,  and  you  don't  know  in  the  least 
what  other  resources  are  open  to  you.  It 
isn't  alone  actresses  that  you  meet  at  a  place 
like  this,  but  all  sorts  of  clever  people  who 
know  how  to  get  what  there  is  out  of  life. 
That  is  what  you  yourself  want  to  do,  isn't 
it?  Well,  it'll  do  you  no  harm,  to  say  the 
least,  to  see  how  they  go  about  it." 

"Very  likely,"  Christian  replied,  as  the 
other  turned.  "I  will  be  ready  at  seven." 

He  followed  him  to  the  door,  and  into  the 

hallway.      "Mind,"    he  said,   half  jokingly, 

half  gravely,  as  he  leaned  over  the  banister, 

"I   have   not  altogether    promised.     When 

292 


GLORIA  MUNDI 

midnight   comes,    I   may  lose   my   courage 
altogether. ' ' 

"Ah,  it's  that  kind  of  timidity  that  storms 
every  fortress  in  its  path,"  Dicky  called  up 
to  him  from  the  stairway. 


CHAPTER    XIV 

The  two  young  men  dined  at  the  Cafe* 
Royal.  "It's  as  good  a  kitchen  as  there  is  in 
London,  and  in  the  matter  of  people  it  isn't 
such  a  tiresome  repetition  of  those  one  meets 
everywhere  else  as  Willis's  or  the  Prince's. 
To  see  the  same  shoulders  and  the  same 
necks,  night  after  night — a  fellow  gets  tired 
of  it." 

To  this  explanation  by  Dicky  of  his  choice, 
as  they  rolled  forward  in  their  hansom, 
Christian  made  no  direct  response.  After  a 
little  he  said:  "Very  soon  now,  I  am  going 
to  do  something  that  seems  to  have  been  in 
my  mind  for  months.  Perhaps  I  have  only 
thought  of  it  since  this  afternoon :  I  cannot  be 
sure.  But  I  am  going  to  do  it — I  am  going 
to  know  for  myself  what  the  real  London 
and  the  real  England  are  like.  A  thousand 
gentlemen  in  black  clothes  and  silk  hats,  a 
thousand  ladies  with  low-cut  dresses  and 
feathers  in  their  hair — all  thinking  and  talk 
ing  about  themselves  and  their  own  little 
affairs — that  does  not  mean  London.  And  a 
few  large  houses  in  the  country,  where  these 
295 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

same  people  spend  a  few  months  riding  after 
the  hounds  and  shooting  tame  birds  and 
wearying  each  other  with  idle,  sleepy  talk — 
that  does  not  represent  England." 

"Doesn't  it!"  cried  Westland.  "I  should 
say  that's  just  what  it  did,  worse  luck!" 

"No,  no!"  protested  Christian.  "I  don't 
want  to  be  told  that  it  does — for  then  I 
should  want  to  go  away  altogether.  No — 
there  is  the  other  thing,  and  I  am  going  to 
find  it  out,  and  see  it  and  know  it.  When 
all  those  years  of  my  boyhood  and  youth  I 
was  so  proud  of  being  an  Englishman,  it 
was  not  this  empty,  valueless  life  of  the  West 
End,  or  the  chase  of  foxes  and  birds  in  the 
country,  that  I  longed  for,  and  nourished 
pride  in." 

"Oh,  but  they  do  other  things,  you  know," 
laughed  Dicky.  "They  are  in  Parliament, 
some  of  them,  or  they  are  at  the  bar,  or  in 
the  Services,  or  they  manage  estates  or  are 
directors  in  companies,  and  that  sort  of 
thing.  And  some  of  them  go  in  a  lot  for 
charities,  and  work  on  committees  and 
organize  things,  you  know.  You'd  hardly 
believe  how  much  of  that  most  of  the  women 
let  themselves  in  for. ' ' 

"That  is  not  what  I  mean,"  said  the  other, 
rather  abruptly.  "To  me  all  that  is  not 
worth  the  snap  of  a  finger, ' '  and  he  empha- 
296 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

sized  his  words  by  a  gesture  with  the  hand 
which  rested  on  the  door  of  the  hansom. 

At  an  advanced  stage  of  the  dinner,  the 
young  men  came  to  the  subject  again.  In 
reply  to  a  random  inquiry  Christian  said  that 
his  grandfather,  the  duke,  as  far  as  he  knew, 
was  neither  worse  nor  better  in  health  than 
he  had  been  all  winter.  "I  have  not  been 
to  Caermere  since  my  first  visit,"  he  went 
on.  "I  am  really  living  upon  a  programme 
arranged  for  me,  I  should  think,  by  a  com 
mittee  of  my  relations.  Lord  Lingfield  is 
my  active  bear-leader.  He  conducts  me,  or 
sends  me,  wherever  it  has  been  decided  that  I 
shall  go.  It  was  not  deemed  important  that 
I  should  go  to  Caermere  again — and  so  I 
have  not  gone.  Voilatout!  If  I  had  been 
free  to  myself,  I  think  I  should  have  gone." 

"It  must  be  an  awfully  jolly  place,  from 
the  pictures  I've  seen  of  it,"  said  Westland. 

"  Jolly!  "  cried  Christian.  "My  dear 
creature,  it  is  a  grave,  a  mausoleum,  a  place 
of  skulls  and  dead  men's  bones!  You  have 
never  seen  such  a  family  vault  in  all  your 
days.  When  I  even  begin  to  think  of  under 
taking  the  task  of  brightening  it  into  life 
again,  I  grow  dizzy.  The  immensity  of  the 
work  unnerves  me.  And  now  I  do  not  know 
if  I  shall  ever  put  my  hand  to  it.  The  coun 
try-gentleman  idea — which  you  make  so 
297 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

much  of  in  England — it  does  not  appeal  to 
me.  It  is  too  idle — too  purposeless.  Of 
course  my  cousin  Emanuel,  he  makes  a 
terrible  toil  of  it — and  does  some  wonderful 
things,  beyond  doubt.  But  after  all,  what 
does  it  come  to?  He  helps  people  to  be 
extremely  fine  who  without  him  would  only 
be  tolerably  fine.  But  I  have  the  feeling 
that  one  should  help  those  who  are  not  fine 
at  all — who  have  never  had  the  chance  to  be 
fine,  who  do  not  know  what  it  means. 
Emanuel' s  wife — oh,  a  very  lovely  character 
— she  said  to  me  that  they  disliked  coming 
up  to  town,  the  sight  of  the  London  poor  dis 
tressed  them  so  much.  Well,  that  is  the 
point — if  I  am  to  help  anybody  at  all,  it  is 
the  London  poor  that  I  should  try  to  help. 
Emanuel' s  plan  is  to  give  extra  bones,  and 
teach  new  tricks,  to  dogs  already  very  com 
fortable.  My  heart  warms  to  the  dogs  with 
out  collars,  the  homeless  and  hungry  devils 
who  look  for  bones  in  the  gutters. ' ' 

"Oh,  you're  going  in  for  settlements  and 
that  sort  of  thing,"  commented  Dicky.  "I 
hear  that  is  rather  disappointing  work.  If 
you  don't  take  the  sporting  papers  at  the 
reading-room  they  say  the  men  won't  come 
at  all.  Slingsby  Chetwynd  was  awfully  keen 
on  the  thing.  He  went  down  to  stop  a  whole 
week — at  Shoreditch  or  Houndsditch  or  the 
298 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

Isle  of  Dogs,  or  somewhere  like  that — and  a 
woman  smashed  his  hat  in,  and  he  fell  into 
a  cellar — and  he  was  jolly  glad  to  get  back 
again  the  same  night." 

Christian  was  pursuing  thoughts  of  his 
own.  The  wine  was  admirable — as  indeed 
it  should  have  been  considering  the  pains 
Dicky  had  been  at,  with  pursed  lips  and  lifted 
eyebrows,  in  the  selection  of  it — and  Chris 
tian  had  found  an  unaccustomed  pleasure  in 
its  aromatic,  sub-acid  taste.  He  had  drunk 
rather  freely  of  it,  and  was  satisfied  with 
himself  for  having  done  so.  He  leaned  back 
in  his  chair  now,  and  watching  the  golden 
fountain  of  bubbles  forever  streaming  up 
ward  in  his  glass,  mused  upon  welcome  new 
impulses  within  him  toward  the  life  of  a  free 
man. 

''None  the  less,"  he  remarked,  indifferent 
to  the  irrelevancy  of  his  theme,  "I  should 
have  liked  to  go  to  Caermere  during  the 
winter.  I  am  annoyed  with  myself  now 
that  I  did  not  go — whether  it  was  arranged 
for  me  or  not.  There  is  a  lady  there  for 
whom  I  felt  great  sympathy.  I  had  expected 
to  be  of  service  to  her  long  before  this — but 
I  am  of  service  to  no  one.  She  is  a  cousin — 
no  doubt  you  know  her — Lady  Cressage. " 

"But  she  is  in  London,"  put  in  Westland. 
"I  only  know  her  a  little,  but  Lady  Selton 
299 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

used  to  be  by  way  of  seeing-  a  good  deal  of 
her.  She  told  me  last  week  that  she  was  in 
town— taken  a  little  flat  somewhere— Vic- 
toria  Street  way,  I  think.  She  doesn't  go  in 
for  being  very  smart,  you  know.  Why- 
yes — of  course  she's  your  cousin  by  marriage. 
Awfully  pretty  woman  she  was.  Gad!  how 
well  I  remember  her  season !  All  the  fellows 
went  quite  off  their  heads.  How  funny— 
that  she  should  be  your  cousin!" 

Christian  took  no  note  of  his  companion's 
closing  words,  or  of  the  tone  in  which  they 
had  been  uttered.  He  scowled  at  the  play 
ful  bubbles  in  his  glass,  as  he  reflected  that 
the  news  of  her  arrival  in  London  ought  not 
to  have  come  to  him  in  this  roundabout, 
accidental  way.  Why  did  none  of  his  own 
people  tell  him?  Or  still  more  to  the  point, 
why  had  not  she  herself  told  him?  He  really 
had  given  her  only  an  occasional  and  sporadic 
thought,  during  these  past  four  or  five 
months.  Now,  as  he  frowned  at  his  wine,  it 
seemed  to  him  that  his  whole  winter  had 
been  burdened  with  solicitude  for  her.  Or 
no,  * 'burdened"  was  an  ungracious  word, 
and  false  to  boot.  He  would  say  "mel 
lowed"  or  "enriched"  instead. 

"You  must  find  out  for  me" — he  began, 
and  then,  upon  a  second  thought  born  of 
pique,  checked  himself.  "Or  do  not  mind— 


300 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

it  is  of  no  consequence.  I  shall  hear  as  a 
matter  of  course."  He  called  for  the  bill 
with  a  decision  in  his  voice  which  seemed 
full  of  warning  that  the  topic  was  exhausted. 

Westland  could  not  help  observing-  the  fat 
roll  of  crackling  white  notes  which  the  other 
drew  from  his  pocket.  If  they  were  all  of 
the  smallest  denomination,  they  must  still 
represent  something  like  his  whole  year's 
allowance.  The  general  understanding  that 
Christian's  unfamiliarity  with  English  ways 
excused,  and  even  invited,  wise  admonition 
from  his  friends,  prompted  him  to  speak. 

"That's  rather  a  lot  to  carry  about  with 
you,  old  man,"  he  said,  in  gentle  expostula 
tion. 

"Oh,  I  like  it!"  Christian  declared,  with 
shining  eyes.  He  snapped  the  elastic  band 
about  the  roll,  with  an  air  of  boyish  delight 
in  the  sound,  as  he  returned  it  to  his  pocket. 
"If  you  knew  the  years  in  which  I  counted 
my  sous!" 

It  was  nearly  ten  o'clock  when  they  left. 
Beginning  with  the  Pavilion,  they  went  to 
four  or  five  music  halls,  only  to  find  that 
there  were  no  seats  to  be  had.  "Why,  of 
course  it's  the  boat-race,"  exclaimed  Dicky 
at  last.  "Stupid  of  me  to  have  forgotten  it. 
I  say,  I  ought  to  have  come  for  you  this 
morning,  and  taken  you  up  the  river  to  see 
301 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

it.  It's  worth  seeing — for  once.  I  wonder 
Ling-field  did  not  arrange  it  for  you." 

"Oh,  several  people  asked  me  to  join  their 
parties,"  Christian  replied.  "But  it  did  not 
attract  me.  The  athletics  here — they  rather 
annoy  me.  It  is  as  if  people  thought  of 
nothing  else.  And  to  have  students  at  the 
universities  consumed  with  the  idea — that  is 
specially  unpleasant  to  my  mind.  You  must 
remember — I  am  a  teacher  by  profession." 

"We'll  go  back  to  the  Empire,"  Westland 
decided.  "Ever  been  there?  Well,  it's  worth 
seeing,  too — perhaps  more  than  once.  The 
Johnnies  '11  be  out  in  extraordinary  force, 
I'm  afraid,  but  then  you  ought  to  see  them 
too,  I  suppose.  It  takes  all  sorts  to  make  a 
world — and  the  world  is  what  you've  come 
out  to  look  at.  Let  me  get  the  tickets — or, 
well,  if  you  insist — ask  for  the  promenade." 

It  was  indeed  a  novel  spectacle,  which 
smote  and  confused  his  eyes,  rather  than 
revealed  itself  to  them,  when  Christian 
found  himself  inside.  The  broad,  low, 
rounded  promenade  was  so  crowded  with 
people  that  at  first  sight  walking  about 
seemed  wholly  impracticable,  but  Dicky 
stepped  confidently  into  the  jumbled  throng 
and  began  moving  through  it,  apparently 
with  ease,  and  the  other  followed  him.  They 
made  their  way  to  the  end,  where  a  man  in 
302 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

uniform  guarded  a  staircase ;  then,  turning, 
they  elbowed  along  back  to  the  opposite  end 
of  the  half-circle.  This  gained,  there  was 
nothing  in  Dicky's  thoughts,  seemingly,  but 
to  repeat  the  performance  indefinitely. 
Their  progress  was  of  a  necessity  slow.  On 
the  inner  side  a  dense  wall  of  backs  and  high 
hats  rendered  hopeless  any  notion  of  seeing 
the  stage  below.  Christian,  struggling  after 
his  guide,  wondered  what  else  there  was  to 
see. 

After  a  time  it  became  obvious  to  him  that 
the  women  who  formed  so  large  an  element 
of  the  lazily  shifting  crowd  were  also  the 
occasion  of  its  being.  They  walked  about, 
looking  the  men  in  the  face  with  a  cold,  free, 
impassive  scrutiny  upon  which,  even  if  he 
had  never  seen  it  before,  intuition  would 
have  fixed  a  label  for  him.  Other  women, 
from  the  plush  seats  on  the  outer  edge  of  the 
circle,  bent  upon  the  whole  moving  mass  of 
promenaders  the  same  stoical,  inscrutable 
gaze.  The  range  of  age  among  them  did  not 
seem  extended  to  his  uninformed  glance. 
In  years  they  were  apparently  all  about 
alike.  Some,  indeed,  had  fresher  faces  and 
smoother  skins  than  others,  but  when  the 
eyes  were  considered  a  certain  indefinable 
equality  was  insisted  upon  in  them  all. 
Their  toilets  were  often  striking  in  effect, 
303 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

and  especially  their  hats — exaggerating  botl* 
in  breadth  of  brim,  and  in  the  height  anc^ 
bulk  of  the  edifice  of  plumes  above,  the 
prevalent  fashion  in  such  matters — were 
notable  to  the  spectator ;  but  Christian  found 
himself,  upon  consideration,  more  interested 
in  their  eyes  than  in  anything  else. 

A  certain  stony  quality  in  this  stereotyped 
gaze  of  theirs  suggested  a  parallel  to  his 
memory;  he  had  seen  precisely  that  same 
cool,  unruffled,  consciously  unconscious  stare 
in  princesses  who  had  looked  at  him  without 
beholding  him  in  the  far-away  days  of  his 
life  about  the  hotels  of  the  Riviera.  It  was 
very  curious,  he  thought — this  incongruous 
resemblance.  But  a  little  closer  analysis 
showed  that  the  likeness  was  but  partial. 
These  ladies  of  the  promenade  could  look 
about  them  with  the  imperturbability  of 
princesses,  it  was  true,  but  only  so  long  as 
they  saw  nothing  which  concerned  them 
immediately.  Nay,  now  he  could  discern 
beneath  the  surface  of  this  passionless 
perlustration  a  couched  vigilance  of  atten 
tion,  which  ever  and  again  flashed  upper 
most  with  electric  swiftness.  When  this 
mercurial  change  came,  one  saw  the  tem 
perament  mapped  out  like  a  landscape  under 
the  illumination  of  lightning.  There 
gleamed  forth  expectancy,  dread,  joy, 
304 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

irritability,  fun,  dislike  or  wistful  hope — • 
whatever  the  mood  of  the  instant  yielded — 
with  a  force  of  intensity  almost  startling. 
Then,  as  quickly  as  it  came,  the  look 
might  vanish;  even  if  it  flickered  on,  the 
briefest  interval  of  repose  brought  back 
again  the  watchful,  dispassionate,  hardened 
regard. 

"Have  you  had  enough  of  this?"  Dicky 
asked,  with  an  implication  of  weariness  in 
his  tone. 

Christian,  halting,  took  slow  and  bewil 
dered  cognizance  of  the  fact  that  he  had 
been  going  from  one  end  of  the  promenade 
to  the  other  for  a  very  long  time.  Insensibly, 
at  some  period  of  the  experience,  he  had 
taken  the  lead  from  his  companion,  and  had 
been  dragging  him  about  in  his  wake. 

"It  is  very  interesting,"  was  the  vague 
excuse  he  offered  to  Dicky,  and  even  more  to 
himself. 

A  sofa  just  beside  them  was  for  the 
moment  unoccupied.  Christian  seated  him 
self  with  the  air  of  one  physically  tired  out. 
"Ought  we  not  to  order  drinks?"  he  asked 
his  companion,  who  stood  over  him,  looking 
down  somewhat  doubtfully. 

"Oh,  dear,  no — not  here!"  Dicky  replied, 
with  conviction.     "It's  nearly  closing  time 
— and  we'll  go  over  to  the  club  for  half  an 
305 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

hour — where  we  know  our  tipple.  Shall  we 
run  along  now?" 

*  *  No — sit  down  here,  * '  said  Christian.  He 
spoke  with  the  authority  of  a  profound 
emotion,  that  glowed  in  his  eyes  and 
quivered  on  his  lips.  Westland  obeyed  him, 
pretending  to  a  nonchalance  which  his 
mistrustful  glance  belied. 

"This  is  all  very  extraordinary  to  me," 
Christian  continued,  in  a  low,  strenuous 
voice.  He  spoke  with  even  more  than  his 
wonted  fluency.  "It  catches  hold  of  me.  It 
fills  my  mind  with  new  thoughts.  There  is 
something  in  the  very  air  here — " 

"Musk  and  cigarette  smoke,"  interposed 
Dicky,  lightly.  Then  he  saw  that  levity 
struck  a  false  note. 

"Pah  '."the  other  jerked  forth,  impatiently. 
'  4  Don't  talk  like  that !  It  is  the  most  terrible, 
the  most  touching,  the  most  inspiring  thing 
I  have  seen  in  my  life.  I  breathe  in  a  new 
ambition  here,  out  of  this  atmosphere.  We 
were  talking  of  the  London  poor.  I  thought 
they  made  the  loudest  appeal — but  they  are 
nothing  beside  this!"  He  spread  his  thin, 
nervous  hand  out  as  he  spoke,  and  swept  it  in 
a  comprehensive  gesture  over  the  spectacle 
before  them.  "These  are  my  sisters — my 
unhappy  and  dishonored  sisters,  scorned  and 
scornful — oh,  yes,  they  are  all  my  sisters!" 
306 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

"But  fortunately  they  don't  know  it," 
urged  Dicky,  surveying  the  ladies  with 
pouting  lips  and  half -closed  eyes.  "For 
God's  sake,  don't  mention  it  to  them." 

Christian  turned  round,  with  one  knee  on 
the  sofa,  and  claimed  his  companion's  atten 
tion.  "I  wanted  to  be  able  to  add  you  to 
my  very  little  list  of  friends,"  he  said, 
gravely.  "All  the  evening  I  have  had 
that  in  my  mind — and  it  may  be  something 
else,  too.  But  if  you  cannot  understand 
me,  now,  when  I  tell  you  how  all  this  moves 
me — and  if  you  only  care  to  mock  at  what 
I  say — why,  then,  it  is  not  needful  to  say 
more." 

Dicky  faced  about  in  turn,  and  regarded 
him  with  a  puzzled  glance,  from  which  he  was 
at  pains  to  exclude  all  signs  of  frivolity. 
"But  you  haven't  told  me  how  it  moves  you 
at  all,"  he  said,  vaguely. 

"Oh,  how,"  repeated  Christian  with 
hesitation.  "It  is  not  easy  to  say  just  how. 
But  I  am  devoured  by  a  great  compassion. 
I  could  weep  tears  at  the  heart-misery  I  see 
here.  They  shout  in  the  papers  and  wring 
their  hands  over  the  massacre  of  Armenians 
• — but  right  here — this  thing — is  it  not  more 
cruel  and  dreadful  still?  Here  there  is  no 
question  of  race  hatreds  and  religious 
hatreds,  but  just  the  cold,  implacable 
307 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

pressure  of  poverty  on  human  souls,  crush 
ing  them  and  sinking  them  in  shame. " 

"Oh,  that's  only  a  part  of  the  story — not 
such  a  deuce  of  a  big  part  either, "  urged  the 
other,  gently.  "Don't  get  so  excited  about 
it,  my  dear  fellow.  It  is  by  no  means  a  new 
thing.  And  wait  till  you  know  more  about 
it,  and  have  thought  it  over — and  then,  if 
you  feel  that  there  is  anything  you  can  do, 
why,  take  my  word  for  it,  it  will  still  be 
here.  It  won't  disappear  in  the  meanwhile. 
You'll  still  be  in  time." 

Christian  regarded  him  wistfully,  and  with 
a  mild,  faint  smile.  "You  would  never 
enter  into  my  feelings  about  this, ' '  he  said, 
softly.  "We  are  made  differently.  It 
strikes  you  as  strange,  does  it  not,  that  a 
young  man,  coming  into  contact  with  this 
for  the  first  time,  should  be  filled  only  with 
the  yearning  to  help  these  poor  girls,  and  do 
good  to  them?  It  surprises  you?  It  is  some 
thing  new  to  you,  n'est  ce  pas?" 

Dicky  grinned  within  decorous  limits.  "My 
dear  boy,"  he  declared,  confidentially,  "so 
far  from  being  new,  it's  the  oldest  thing 
in  the  world.  Every  young  fellow  worth 
his  salt  that  I  have  ever  known,  or  that  any 
body's  ever  known,  has  swelled  himself  out 
with  precisely  these  same  reform  sentiments. 
In  this  very  promenade  here  I  have  witnessed 
308 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

at  least  a  dozen  attacks  like  yours.  And 
don't  think  I  am  jeering  at  the  thing.  It  is 
a  very  beautiful  and  generous  spirit  indeed, 
and  I  admire  it  awfully,  I  assure  you — only — 
only,  as  one  gets  to  know  his  way  about  a  trifle 
better,  he  sees  that  there  isn't  so  much  in 
it  as  he  thought  there  was.  And  that's 
what  I  was  trying  to  say  to  you.  Don't  let 
your  first  impulses  run  away  with  you.  If 
the  subject  interests  you,  appeals  to  you, 
very  well ;  get  to  understand  it.  You  will 
find  that  it  is  more  complicated,  perhaps, 
than  you  think.  But  when  you  know  it  all, 
why,  then  you  can  do  what  you  like." 

Some  of  the  light  seemed  to  have  been 
turned  out.  A  definitive  blare  rolled  up  from 
the  orchestra  below ;  the  throng  of  prome- 
naders,  though  still  informed  by  the  most 
leisurely  of  moods,  was  converging  upon 
the  door  of  exit.  The  two  young  men  arose. 

Christian  suddenly  yawned.  "I  am  tired 
— and  depressed,"  he  said,  wearily.  "I 
think  I  will  ask  you  to  let  me  go  home. " 

"Nonsense!"  said  Dicky,  promptly. 
4 'We'll  go  to  the  club,  and  get  a  pick-up, 
and  then  you  shall  see  something  that  won't 
depress  you.  I  grant  you  this  t's  rather 
melancholy.  God  knows  why  we  came," 

An  hour  or  more  later,  emerging  from  a 
309 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

confusing  sequence  of  narrow  passages  and 
winding  ascents  and  descents,  Christian 
followed  Westland  out  through  a  groove  of 
painted  canvas  to  the  stage  of  the  Hanover 
Theater. 

He  had  never  seen  a  theater  from  this 
point  of  view,  and  the  first  few  minutes  of 
his  scrutiny — here  where  he  stood  at  the 
wings,  while  Dicky  looked  after  the  coats 
and  hats — were  full  of  pleased  interest.  The 
huge  dusky  space  of  the  galleries  overhead, 
strange  and  formidable  in  its  dark  bulk  like 
some  giant  balloon,  was  very  impressive. 
By  contrast,  the  stage  itself  seemed  to  give 
out  light.  A  long  riband  of  a  table  stretched 
across  the  back,  and  down  the  two  sides,  and 
about  this  clustered  many  people ;  shining 
shirt-fronts  and  bald  heads,  pale  shimmering 
dresses  and  white  shoulders,  the  glitter  of 
napery  and  plates  and  glasses — all  was 
radiant  under  the  powerful  electric  glow  from 
above.  He  could  see  now,  in  the  half- 
shadows  down  beyond  the  footlights,  two 
or  three  rows  of  heads  of  people  sitting  in 
the  front  stalls.  To  his  fancy  these  detached 
heads  appeared  to  belong  to  an  order  of 
beings  quite  distinct  from  those  on  the  stage. 
He  wondered  if  actors  felt  their  audiences 
to  be  thus  remote  and  aloof  from  themselves. 

"We  can  push  our  way  in  at  the  other  end 
310 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

— there's  less  of  a  crush  there,"  he  heard 
Dicky  say  to  him.  He  followed  his  guide 
across  the  stage,  through  groups  of  convers 
ing  guests  who  had  brought  out  their  sand 
wiches  and  glasses  from  the  throng,  and 
came  eventually  to  the  table  itself.  Some 
one.  held  out  a  bottle  toward  him,  and  he 
lifted  a  glass  to  be  filled.  From  under  some 
other  stranger's  arm  he  extricated  a  plate, 
containing  something  in  gelatine,  he  knew 
not  what.  In  straightening  himself  he  pushed 
against  a  person  unexpectedly  close  behind 
him. 

Half  turning,  with  the  murmur  of  an 
apology  upon  his  lips,  his  eyes  encountered 
those  of  a  lady,  who  seemed  to  know  him, 
and  to  be  smiling  at  him. 

"How  d'ye  do?"  this  lady  said  to  him. 
There  could  be  no  doubt  about  the  cordiality 
of  her  tone.  Her  left  hand  was  occupied 
with  a  champagne  glass  and  a  fan,  but  her 
right  was  being  lifted  to  him,  almost  against 
his  breast,  in  greeting.  He  gazed  at  her  in 
smiling  perplexity,  the  while  he  signed  that 
both  his  own  hands  were  rilled. 

"You  don't  know  me  from  Adam,"  she 
said  to  him,  cheerfully.  "But  I'm  your 
cousin — Cora  Torr,  you  know." 


CHAPTER  XV 

"You've  altered  so  much  since  I  saw  you! 
It  was  odds  against  my  recognizing  you  at 
all,"  declared  Cora,  beaming  forth  into  con 
versation  before  Christian  had  fairly  grasped 
the  significance  of  her  identity. 

**I  should  never  have  believed  they  would 
make  such  an  Englishman  out  of  you,  in  just 
these  few  months.  Let's  see — it  was 
October,  wasn't  it?  Yes,  of  course — the 
First."  She  showed  her  beautiful  teeth  in 
a  flash  of  gaiety.  "The  pheasants  weren't 
the  only  ones  that  got  hit  that  day.  But 
bygones  are  bygones.  .  .  .  And  how  do  you 
like  London?  How  do  you  find  it  compares 
with  Paris?  I  always  maintain  that  there's 
more  real  life  here,  if  you  know  where  to 
look  for  it.  ...  But  I  am  afraid  you're 
not  glad  to  see  me. ' ' 

'*  There  you  are  wrong.  I  am  glad  to  see 
you,"  Christian  replied,  with  deliberation. 
He  made  his  words  good  by  thrusting  his 
plate  back  upon  the  table  and  shaking  her 
gloved  hand.  There  was  a  frank  smile  in 
his  eyes. 


GLORIA  MUNDI 

* '  Get  my  glass  filled  again, ' '  she  suggested 
— "and  your  own  too — and  let's  get  out  of 
the  way.  These  people  push  as  if  they  had 
had  nothing  to  eat  since  Christmas.  Of  all 
the  hogs  in  evening  clothes,  the  stage-supper 
hog  is  the  worst.  Well,  and  how  have  you 
been,  all  this  time?" 

They  had  moved  across  the  stage  to  the 
entrance,  and  paused  near  it  in  a  little  nook 
of  momentary  isolation.  Christian  made 
conventional  answer  to  her  query,  and  to 
other  remarks  of  hers  calling  for  no  earnest 
attention,  the  while  he  concentrated  his 
thoughts  upon  the  fact  that  they  were 
actually  standing  here  together,  talking  like 
old  friends. 

It  was  sufficiently  surprising,  this  fact,  but 
even  more  remarkable  was  the  satisfaction 
he  himself  was  getting  from  it.  There  was 
no  room  for  doubt ;  he  really  enjoyed  being 
with  her.  There  was  no  special  need  to 
concern  himself  with  what  she  was  saying. 
She  hardly  paused  for  replies,  and  seemed 
not  to  mind  in  the  least  the  automatic 
character  of  the  few  which  came  to  her. 
He  had  only  to  smile  a  little,  and  nod,  and 
let  his  eyes  glow  pleasurably,  and  she  went 
blithely  on.  The  perception  came  suddenly 
to  him  that  he  had  been  sorry  also  for  her. 
Indeed,  now  that  he  reflected  upon  it,  had 
314 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

not  hers  been  the  most  cruel  misfortune  of 
all?  The  memory  of  the  drawn,  agonized 
mask  of  a  face  she  had  shown,  over  the  tea- 
table  in  the  conservatory  at  Caermere,  rose  in 
his  mind's  vision.  He  looked  up  at  the  strips 
of  canvas  and  lamps  above,  with  half-closed 
eyes,  recalling  in  reverie  the  details  of  this 
suffering  face;  then  he  turned  abruptly  to 
confront  her,  and  observe  afresh  the  happy 
contrast  she  presented  to-night. 

Cora  was  looking  away  for  the  instant,  and 
apparently  conveying  by  lifted  eyebrows  and 
shakes  of  the  head  a  message  of  some  sort  to 
some  person  on  the  bustling  stage  unknown 
to  him.  He  glanced  instinctively  in  the 
direction  of  her  signal,  but  gained  no  infor 
mation — and  indeed  realized  at  once  that  he 
was  not  in  search  of  any.  Of  course,  she 
knew  everybody  here,  and  would  be 
exchanging  nods  and  smiles  of  recognition 
all  the  evening.  It  occurred  to  him  to  wonder 
if  her  husband,  that  Captain  Edward  of 
unpleasant  memory,  was  on  the  stage,  but 
he  had  the  power  to  put  the  thought  promptly 
out  of  his  mind.  It  was  only  Cora  that  he 
was  interested  in,  and  that  he  wanted  to  talk 
with.  And  here  she  was,  once  more  looking 
into  his  face,  and  restoring  by  her  smile  his 
almost  jocund  pleasure  in  the  situation. 

He  still  maintained  the  r61e  of  listener, 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

but  it  grew  increasingly  clear  to  him  that 
when  his  turn  came  he  would  have  a  good 
deal  to  say,  and  that  he  would  say  it  well. 
He  had  never  spoken  on  familiar  terms  with 
an  actress  before — and  the  experience  put 
him  wonderfully  at  his  ease.  He  felt  that 
he  could  say  things  to  her ;  already  he 
delighted  in  the  assurance  of  her  receptivity, 
her  immunity  from  starched  nonsense,  her 
genial  and  comforting  good  fellowship.  As 
he  continued  to  look  at  her,  and  to  smile,  he 
remembered  what  people  always  said,  or 
rather  took  for  granted,  about  ladies  on  the 
stage.  The  consciousness  shaped  itself 
within  him  that  she  offered  a  timely  and 
felicitous  compromise — a  sort  of  bridge 
between  those  formal,  "gun-metal"  women 
of  society  whom  he  desired  never  to  see 
again,  and  those  hapless,  unblest  creatures 
of  the  Empire. 

Presently  she  took  his  arm,  and  they  moved 
round  to  the  stalls  in  front,  and  found  seats  a 
little  apart  from  any  one  else.  A  large  num 
ber  of  young  ladies,  in  white  or  light-hued 
evening  dresses,  were  seated  about  in  the  rows 
before  them,  and  Cora  pointed  out  this  one 
and  that  among  them  to  Christian.  "That  is 
Dolly  Montressor — the  dancer,  you  know — 
her  photos  are  all  the  rage  just  now.  The 
girl  in  pink,  over  there — just  turning  round 
316 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

— she  is  the  one  who  sued  young  Concannon 
for  breach  of  promise.  You  must  remember. 
Her  lawyers  put  the  bailiffs  in  for  what  she 
owed  them,  after  they'd  taken  everything 
the  jury  gave  her,  and  she  dressed  the  bailiffs 
in  livery  and  had  them  wait  at  the  table  at 
a  big  supper  she  gave.  The  little  thick- 
nosed  dark  man  there — next  but  one  to  her — 
he  drew  a  check  for  the  supper  and  the  bailiffs 
too.  You  see  the  small,  thin  girl  with  the 
tomato-colored  hair — she  didn't  bring  her 
suit  into  court — one  isn't  fox-headed  for 
nothing.  She  settled  outside  at  the  last 
minute — the  Lord  Carmody  case,  you  know 
— and  no  one's  ever  heard  a  whisper  of  any 
supper  she  ever  gave.  It  isn't  at  all  her 
line.  She  puts  it  all  into  South  Africans; 
they  say  she's  good  for  thirty  thousand 
pounds,  if  she's  got  a  penny.  It  isn't  bad, 
you  know,  on  a  salary  of  six  quid,  and  only 
the  pantomime  season  at  that.  Oh,  there's 
Peggy  Wiltshire — just  in  the  doorway.  She 's 
the  most  remarkable  woman  in  England. 
How  old  would  you  think  she  was?  Forty? 
Why,  my  dear  man,  she  was  billed  as  a  star 
in  the  old  original  Black  Crook — just  about 
the  time  I  was  born.  She  can't  be  a  minute 
under  sixty.  But  look  at  her — the  neck  and 
shoulders  of  a  girl !  Isn't  it  amazing !  Why, 
she  was  knocking  about  town  when  your 
31? 


GLORIA    MUNDI 

father  was  a  youngster — and  here  she  is  still 
going  strong." 

The  tables  were  being  cleared  from  the 
stage,  and  the  fringe  of  gentlemen  who 
remained  hungry  and  thirsty  was  retiring 
slowly  and  with  palpable  reluctance  toward 
the  wings.  Some  sad-faced  musicians 
emerged  wearily  from  an  unsuspected 
cave  beneath  the  footlights,  and  exhibited 
their  violins  and  flutes  to  the  general  gaze 
with  an  air  of  profound  dejection.  Their 
fiddle  strings  began  to  whine  at  one  another, 
in  a  perfunctory  and  bad-tempered  groping 
about  for  something  they  were  expected  to 
have  in  common.  A  stout  man  on  the  stage 
vigorously  superintended  the  removal  of  the 
last  table,  and  warned  off  with  a  compre 
hensive  gesture  the  lingering  remnant  of 
unsated  raveners;  then,  turning,  he  lifted 
his  hand.  On  the  instant,  some  score  and 
more  of  the  young  ladies  in  white  and  pale 
pinks  and  blues  and  lavenders  rose  from  their 
front  stalls,  and  moved  toward  the  stage 
door  at  the  left.  They  pressed  forward  like 
a  flock  of  sheep — and  with  faces  as  listlessly 
vacant  as  any  pasture  could  afford.  Chris 
tian  observed  their  mechanical  exit  with  a 
curling  lip. 

'  *  If  these  are  the  renowned  beauties,  whose 
fascinations  turn  the  heads  of  all  the  young 
318 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

men  about  town,"  he  confided  to  his  com 
panion,  "then  it  says  extremely  little  for  the 
quality  of  what  is  inside  those  heads." 

"Yes,  isn't  it  extraordinary!"  she  mused 
at  him,  eyeing  the  bevy  of  celebrities  with  a 
ruminating  glance.  "This  must  be  some 
where  near  the  sixth  or  seventh  lot  of  'em 
that  even  I've  seen  passing  through  the 
turnstile,  as  you  might  say.  Where  do  they 
all  come  from? — and  good  heavens!  where 
do  they  all  go  to?  It's  a  procession  that 
never  stops,  you  know.  You'd  think  there 
was  a  policeman,  keeping  it  moving.  You 
have  these  girls  here — well,  they're  the 
queens,  just  for  the  minute.  They  own  the 
earth.  Nothing  in  the  world  is  too  good  for 
them.  Very  well:  just  behind  them  are 
some  other  girls,  a  few  years  younger. 
Goodness  knows  where  they  were  to-night — 
in  the  back  ranks  of  the  ballets,  perhaps,  or 
doing  their  little  turn  at  the  Paragon  or  the 
Canterbury,  or  doing  nothing  at  all — nothing 
but  keeping  their  toes  pointed  in  this  direc 
tion.  And  they  are  treading  close  on  the 
heels  of  these  queens  you  see  here;  and 
behind  them  are  girls  of  sixteen  or  so,  and 
behind  them  the  little  chits  of  ten  and 
twelve — and  they're  all  pushing  along — and 
in  time  each  lot  gets  in  front,  out  under  the 
limelight,  and  has  its  little  year  on  the 
319 


GLORIA    MUNDI 

throne — and  then  gets  shoved  off  to  make 
room  for  the  next.  You  might  have  seen 
two-thirds  of  these  men  here  ten  years  ago. 
But  not  the  women.  Oh,  no!  Only  here 
and  there  one — an  old  stager  like  Polly 
Wiltshire — or  a  middle-aged  stager  like 
myself.  But  we're  merely  salt  to  the 
porridge." 

"But  do  you  not  wish  to  dance?"  he  asked 
her.  The  orchestra  had  begun  a  waltz,  and 
the  young  ladies  from  the  front  stalls,  each 
now  attached  to  a  stiffly  gyrating  male  figure, 
were  circling  about  on  the  stage,  with  a  float 
ing,  wave-like  swing  of  their  full  skirts  which 
revealed  to  those  below  in  the  stalls  rhythmic 
glimpses  of  whisking  feet  and  trim  black 
ankles. 

"I  will  dance  with  you  with  pleasure," 
she  replied,  promptly. 

"Unfortunately" — he  began  with  con 
fusion — "it  is  ridiculous  of  me,  but  I  never 
learned." 

"Oh,  then,  we  will  sit  here  and  talk,"  she 
insisted.  "I  truly  don't  want  to  dance.  It's 
ever  so  much  cooler  and  more  comfortable 
here.  One  has  to  come  to  these  things,  you 
know — you  have  to  show  yourself  or  you're 
like  the  man  who  fell  out  of  the  balloon — 
simply  not  in  it.  But  they're  all  alike — all 
deadly  stupid  unless  you're  young  and  want  to 
320 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

kick   your  legs   about— or  unless  you    find 
some  one  you're  particularly  glad  to  see." 

Christian  did  not  seek  to  evade  the  implica 
tion  of  the  genial  glance  with  which  she 
pointed  this  last  remark.  ' '  Yes,  it  is  good  of 
you  to  stay  here  with  me,"  he  declared. 
"Except  you  and  my  friend  who  brought  me 
here — I  thought  I  saw  him  dancing  a  moment 
ago — I  don't  know  a  soul.  I  have  been  say 
ing  to-day,"  he  continued,  settling  down  in 
his  seat  toward  her,  "that  I  make  friends 
badly — I  remain  here  in  England  almost  a 
stranger. ' ' 

"Why,  I  thought  you  went  everywhere.  I 
know  I'm  forever  seeing  your  name  in  the 
'Morning  Post.'  You  spell  it  Tower,  I 
notice." 

"Oh,  yes,  I  have  been  going  everywhere— 
but  going  as  one  goes  alone  through  a  gallery 
of  pictures.  I  do  not  bring  out  any  friends 
with  me." 

She  stole  a  swift  glance  at  him,  as  she 
fanned  herself.  "You  surprise  me,"  she 
commented.  "I  should  have  thought  every 
body  would  be  running  after  you. ' ' 

4 ' Do  they ?  I  am  not  conscious  of  it. "  He 
spoke  wearily.  * '  If  they  do,  it  does  not  interest 
me.  They  are  not  my  kind  of  people.  They 
take  no  hold  whatever  upon  my  sympathy. 
They  make  no  appeal  to  the  imagination." 
321 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

"You  could  hardly  say  that  about  those 
ladies'  skirts  up  there,"  she  jocosely  re 
marked.  "I  had  no  idea  silk  petticoats 
flapped  so." 

He  was  not  to  be  diverted  from  his  theme. 
"It  is  very  funny  about  me,"  he  went  on. 
4 '  I  seem  to  make  no  friends  among  men,  of 
my  own  age  or  any  other.  Of  course  there 
are  two  or  three  exceptions — but  no  more. 
And  as  for  the  majority  of  women,  they 
attract  me  still  less.  Yet  when,  once  in  a 
great  while,  I  do  meet  some  one  who  really 
interests  me,  it  is  always  a  woman.  These 
few  women  whom  I  have  in  mind — oh,  I  could 
count  them  on  the  ringers  of  one  hand — 
they  make  a  much  deeper  and  more  last 
ing  impression  on  me  than  any  man  can 
make." 

"I  believe  that  frequently  happens,"  she 
put  in  lightly.  She  did  not  seem  to  him  to 
be  following  his  thread  of  reasoning  with 
conspicuous  closeness,  but  her  pleasant  smile 
reassured  him. 

"I  think  I  am  most  readily  moved  on  the 
side  of  my  compassion,"  he  continued,  intent 
upon  the  development  of  his  self-analysis. 
"If  I  am  sorry  for  the  people,  it  is  easier  for 
me  to  like  them — that  is,  if  they  are  young 
and  pretty  women. ' ' 

Cora  laughed  aloud  at  this,   then  lapsed 
322 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

abruptly  into  thoughtf  ulness.     '  *  How  do  you 
mean?"  she  asked. 

"  To-night  I  went  to  the  place  of  the— the 
promenade— the  Empire,  is  it  not?  And  the 
sight  of  the  young  women  there — it  terribly 
affected  me.  I  wanted  to  shout  out  that  they 
were  all  my  sisters — that  I  would  protect 
them  all — that  they  should  never  be  forced 
by  poverty  and  want  to  face  that  miserable 
humiliation  again. ' '  She  looked  at  him,  her 
lips  parted  over  the  beautiful  teeth,  a  certain 
blankness  of  non-comprehension  in  the 
beautiful  eyes.  As  she  slowly  grasped  the 
drift  of  his  words,  the  eyes  and  lips  joined 
in  a  reserved  and  baffling  smile.  "You're 
a  nice  boy,"  she  decided,  "but  you're 
tremendously  young.  Those  girls  are  lazy, 
greedy,  good-for-nothing  hussies.  They 
wouldn't  do  honest  work  for  a  living  if  it 
was  brought  to  them  on  a  silver  salver. 
They  haven't  an  idea  in  their  empty  painted 
heads  except  to  wheedle  or  steal  money  from 
drunken  fools.  They're  nothing  but — what 
d'ye  call  'em? — parasites.  I'd  put  'em  all 
on  the  treadmill,  if  I  had  my  way. " 

Christian  sat  up  a  little,  and  she  was  alert 
in  noting  the  signs  of  disaffection  on  his 
mobile  face.  "Nevertheless,  there  is  a  great 
sorrow  and  a  great  shame  in  it  all,"  he  said, 
gravely. 

323 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

"Oh,  that  I  admit,"  she  declared,  making 
busy  work  with  her  fan.  "Of  course!  Per 
haps  I  spoke  more  sharply  than  I  meant. 
Every  one  is  sorry  for  the  poor  creatures — 
but — but  I  confess  I'm  sorrier  still  for  the 
girls  who  have  to  work  like  slaves  for  the 
barest  necessities  of  life.  Why,  my  dress 
maker's  girls,  two  of  'em — poor  little  half- 
starved  sisters  who  may  come  at  nine  or  ten 
o'clock  at  night  to  deliver  things,  or  try  some 
thing  on — they  get  twenty-five  shillings  a 
week  between  them.  That's  what  gets  on 
my  nerve. ' ' 

He  preserved  silence  for  a  time,  then 
suddenly  sat  upright  and  faced  her.  A 
new  light  shone  in  his  eyes.  "I  am  the 
dullest  person  on  earth,"  he  protested. 
"All  this  time  I  have  not  thought  of  it.  I 
want  to  ask  you  a  thousand  things  about 
your  sister.  Did  you  not  know? — She  is  my 
oldest  friend  in  England." 

Cora  drew  a  long  breath,  and  held  up  her 
fan  for  a  protracted  and  attentive  inspection. 
"Oh,  yes — you  mean  Frank,"  she  said, 
tentatively. 

"Frank?  Is  that  her  name?  She  works. 
She  has  a  machine  a  e*crire— a  typewriter 
it  is  called.  You  must  tell  me  about  her! 
Is  she  very  well?  And  where  is  she  to  be 
found?  How  shall  I  go  about  it  to  recall 
324 


GLORIA  MUNDI 

myself  to  her?"  As  there  came  no  immediate 
response,  he  put  his  further  meditations  into 
dreamy  words:  "She  spoke  the  first  kind 
words  to  me,  here  in  England.  I  bade 
farewell  to  France  and  the  old  hard  life,  in 
her  company.  It  was  she  who  pointed  with 
her  finger  for  me  to  have  my  first  look  at 
England — the  little,  rose-colored  island  in 
the  green  water,  with  the  purple  clouds 
above  it.  It  seemed  that  we  were  very  close 
together — on  that  one  day.  And  I  was  so 
full  of  the  thought  of  seeing  her  very  soon 
again !  And  that  was  September — and  now 
it  is  very  nearly  May!  .  .  .  But  you 
have  not  told  me !  Where  is  it  that  she  is  to 
be  found?  Where  does  she  live?" 

* '  She  lives  at  home  with  my  people, ' '  Cora 
replied,  still  with  reflective  deliberation.  It 
was  with  a  visible  effort  that  she  shook  off 
the  preoccupied  air  into  which  she  had 
lapsed.  "But  you  don't  want  to  go  there — 
it's  out  of  the  world — red-busses  and  green- 
busses  and  a  tram  and  that  sort  of  thing. 
But  she  has  an  ofHce  now  of  her  own;  that's 
where  you'd  find  her  most  easily.  Bless  me 
if  I  know  where  it  is — it's  between  the 
Strand  and  the  Embankment,  but  I  never 
can  remember  which  is  Norfolk  Street  and 
which  Arundel  Street — and  really  I'm  not 
sure  she's  on  either.  But  my  brother  *s 
325 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

here.  I'll  ask  him,  presently.  And  so  you 
know  Frank?" 

"Ah,  yes,  but  you  know  her  better  still," 
said  Christian,  softly,  nestling  again  into  the 
corner  of  his  chair  .nearest  her.  "I  wanted 
you  to  tell  me  about  her." 

"Oh,  well— but  what  is  there  to  tell?"  she 
made  answer,  vaguely.  "She  is  a  good  girl; 
she's  frightfully  clever;  she  works  very 
hard,  and  gives  most  of  her  money  to  her 
mamma;  she's  successful,  too,  because  she's 
got  a  shop  of  her  own,  at  last — and — and — 
that's  about  all,  isn't  it?  You  know,  we're 
not  by  way  of  seeing  much  of  each  other. 
There's  no  quarrel,  of  course — not  the  least 
in  the  world — but  I'm  too  frivolous  to  be  in 
her  class  at  all.  I  dare  say  it's  my  fault — 
I  ought  to  go  and  look  her  up.  That's  what 
I  will  do,  too,  one  of  these  days.  But — 
you  mustn't  misunderstand  me — she's  an 
awfully  good  girl,  that  is,  of  course,  if  you 
like  that  sort  of  girl.  And  she's  pretty,  too, 
don't  you  think?" 

"Yes,  I  think  so,"  affirmed  Christian, 
almost  with  solemnity.  "What  time  would 
she  come  to  her  office — in  the  morning,  I 
mean?" 

"Oh,  don't  ask  me!"  laughed  Cora.  "At 
some  ghastly  hour,  when  they  have  break 
fast,  I  believe,  in  cabmen's  shelters,  and  the 
326 


GLORIA  MtJNbl 

streets  haven't  been  swept.  I  know  it 
only  by  hearsay.  I've  never  stopped  up 
quite  as  late  as  that,  you  know.  But  you 
see  something  like  it,  driving  round  by 
Covent  Garden  on  your  way  home  from  a 
late  dance,  to  see  the  flowers.  Have  you 
ever  done  that?" 

Christian  shook  his  head.  The  idea 
attracted  him,  apparently.  "At  what  hour 
is  it?"  he  asked,  with  interest. 

"Oh,  four  or  five  or  something  like  that. 
It's  really  the  prettiest  sight  you  ever  saw. 
I  used  to  go  often,  at  this  time  of  year,  and 
take  home  a  cabload  of  flowers.  But  I  am 
getting  too  old  now — and  too  serious-minded. 
The  mother  of  a  family — you  know. ' ' 

Christian  looked  at  his  watch.  "It  has 
occurred  to  me" — he  suggested,  hesitatingly 
— "it  is  now  after  two — perhaps  we  could 
make  a  party  to  go  this  morning.  The 
dancing  will  not  stop  earlier,  will  it?" 

On  the  stage  nothing  seemed  further  from 
any  mind  than  stopping.  There  was  some 
complicated  kind  of  set  dance  in  progress, 
which  at  the  moment  involved  the  spectacle 
of  some  score  of  couples,  hands  all  joined, 
romping  madly  around  in  a  gigantic  ring. 
The  dresses  whirled  more  wildly  than  ever ; 
the  men  crooked  their  legs  and  hung  out 
ward  from  the  circle  as  they  went,  stamping 
327 


GLORIA  MUND1 

their  feet  and  laughing  boisterously.  Chris 
tian's  eyes  singled  out  one  young  man  who 
seemed  to  be  making  most  noise  of  all — and 
then  he  perceived  that  it  was  Dicky  West- 
land. 

"Perhaps  it  might  be  arranged,"  Cora 
replied,  after  consideration,  and  with  a  side 
long  eye  upon  her  companion.  "I  will  go 
behind  for  a  moment,  and  find  my  brother, 
and  see  what  he  says.  No,  you  stop  here. 
I  will  come  back  again." 

So  many  people  were  moving  about  with 
entire  individual  freedom,  that  he  offered  no 
objection  to  her  departure.  She  pushed  her 
way  confidently  yet  affably  past  the  others 
in  the  row,  and  disappeared  at  the  stage 
door.  He  had  no  clues  by  which  to"  follow 
her  in  fancy  after  that.  Once  he  thought 
he  distinguished  her  at  the  back  of  the  stage 
—but  for  the  rest  it  was  her  sister  rather 
than  the  friendly  Cora  who  engaged  his 
thoughts.  The  idea  that  he  was  to  see  her 
again,  quite  without  delay,  seemed  to 
illuminate  his  whole  mind. 

In  the  labyrinth  of  shunted  scenery  behind 
the  back-curtain,  and  along  the  narrow 
corridors  of  dressing-rooms,  now  devoted 
to  varying  hospitable  uses,  Cora  prosecuted 
what  was  for  a  time  a  fruitless  search. 

"Where  are  the  gentlemen  getting  their 
328 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

drinks?"  she  asked  at  last  of  a  cloak-room 
attendant,  and  the  answer  simplified  her 
task.  Downstairs,  at  the  door  of  the 
manager's  room,  she  was  lucky  enough  to 
hit  upon  Major  Pirie.  "Tell  Eddy  that  I 
want  him,  will  you,  old  man,"  she  said, 
nodding  with  assurance  toward  the  crowded, 
smoky  little  interior,  "and  if  that  brother  of 
mine  is  in  there,  I  want  to  see  him  for  a 
minute,  too. ' ' 

The  brother  came  out  first — a  slender, 
overdressed  youth,  with  a  face  which  sug 
gested  a  cheap  and  inferior  copy  of  Cora's. 
It  had  the  self-complacency  without  the  high 
spirits — the  comeliness  of  line  without  the 
'delicacy  of  texture  and  charm  of  color.  He 
was  obviously  young  in  years,  but  he 
regarded  her  through  the  eyes  of  an  elderly 
and  wearied  person. 

"Hello,"  he  said,  amiably  enough.  "Goin9 
to  take  Eddy  home?  He  won't  be  the  worse 
for  a  friendly  lead.  Oh,  he's  all  right, 
though,  up  to  now.  He's  got  rippin'  odds 
against  Perambulator  from  Hoskins,  seventy 
to  three,  you  know,  in  fivers.  Try  and  get 
him  to  let  me  in  on  the  bet,  will  you?  I 
offered  to  take  half  of  it,  the  minute  the  bet 
was  made — but  he  didn't  answer  me.  You 
can  work  it,  if  you  try,  old  girl." 

"What's  Frank's  address— her  office,  I 
329 


GLORIA    MUNDI 

mean?"  she  put  in  abruptly  "Got  a  pencil? 
Go  and  get  one  from  somebody.  Thirty- 
two  A,  you  say?  Thanks!  Now  tell  Eddy 
to  come  out." 

"But  what's  up?  What  do  you  want  with 
Frank?  Anything  I  can  tell  her?" 

"Never  you  mind!  And  don't  lisp  a  word 
to  her,  or  to  Eddy  or  to  any  one  else.  If  it 
comes  off,  it'll  be  a  beano  for  the  lot  of 
us." 

"Right  you  are,"  he  assented,  with  a 
glimmer  of  animation.  "But  say,  you  won't 
forget  about  the  Hoskins  bet,  will  you?  If 
I  could  even  have  a  third  of  it !  I  could  do 
with  some  odd  sovereigns  just  now,  and  no 
mistake. ' ' 

"Sh-h!  Here  he  comes.  You  run  away 
now,  d'ye  see;  I  want  to  talk  with  Eddy." 

Captain  Edward  emerged  from  the  haze  of 
cigarette  smoke  which  veiled  the  throng 
within  the  manager's  room.  "Well?"  he 
demanded,  with  a  kind  of  sulky  eagerness. 

"I  haven't  told  him  you  were  here,"  Cora 
began,  under  her  breath,  drawing  her 
husband  aside  down  the  passage.  "It  didn't 
seem  to  come  into  the  talk.  He  thinks  I'm 
here  with  Tom." 

Edward  looked  down  upon  his  wife,  with 
a  slow,   ponderous  glance  of  mingled  hope 
and  uneasiness.      He   puHed    at   his   small 
330 


GLORIA   MUND1 

yellow  mustache,  and  aimlessly  jingled  some 
keys  in  his  pocket. 

"You've  had  nearly  two  hours  with  him, 
you  know,"  he  protested,  doubtfully. 

"Don't  I  know  it!"  she  ejaculated,  holding 
up  her  hands  in  mock  pain  at  the  retrospect. 
"Good  God!  If  I  had  a  thousand  pounds 
to  show  for  it,  I'd  say  it  was  the  hardest 
earned  money  /  ever  handled. ' ' 

"Yes,  but  you  haven't  got  anything  to 
show — so  far's  I  can  make  out,"  he  com 
mented  with  gloom.  "You  didn't  mention 
my  name  at  all,  eh?  But  that  was  what  you 
particularly  set  out  to  do,  I  thought. ' ' 

"Well,  you  thought  wrong,"  she  re 
sponded  briskly.  "I  set  out  to  do  what  was 
wisest  under  the  circumstances,  and  I've 
done  it.  I've  got  an  inkling  of  a  game  to  be 
played" — she  let  her  eyes  twinkle  at  him  as 
she  made  this  tantalizing  little  pause — "a 
game,  you  old  goose,  worth  seven  hundred 
thousand  times  anything  you  ever  thought 
of." 

The  ex-hussar  regarded  her  fixedly,  the 
while  he  pondered  her  words.  "I  don't 
think  I'm  very  keen  about  games,"  he 
remarked  at  last,  with  obvious  suspicion  in 
his  tone.  "A  married  woman  always  gets 
the  worst  of  games,  in  the  long  run. ' ' 

She  grinned  affectionate  contempt  up  at 
331 


GLORIA  MUNDI 

him.  "Don't  be  such  a  duffer,  Eddy!"  she 
remonstrated  with  him.  "If  I  had  a  notion 
of  that  sort — do  you  suppose  I'd  come  and 
give  it  away  to  you?  What  rot  you  talk!" 

"Yes — but  what  is  your  game?"  he 
demanded,  doggedly. 

"I  won't  tell  you!"  She  spoke  with  great 
apparent  decision.  "You'd  blab  it  all  over 
the  place.  You  can  no  more  keep  a  secret 
than  you  can  keep  a  ten-pound  note." 

"Oh,  I  say,  Cora,"  he  urged,  in  grieved 
protestation.  "You  know  I'm  a  regular 
bailey  oyster,  where  a  thing  has  to  be  kept 
dark.  You'd  better  tell  me,  you  know.  It'll 
keep  me  from — imaginin'  things." 

The  wife  smiled.  "It's  only  a  plant  I've 
got  in  my  mind, ' '  she  explained,  after  con 
sideration.  "What's  the  matter  with  my 
naming  a  wife  for  him,  eh?" 

Edward,  upon  reflection,  pouted  his  lips. 
"Probably  you'd  come  a  cropper  over  it,  in 
the  first  place,"  he  objected,  slowly,  "and 
then  even  if  you  did  name  the  winner,  she'd 
probably  welsh  us  out  of  our  winnings — and 
besides,  what  do  we  want  of  his  marrying  at 
all.  The  longer  he  puts  off  getting  married, 
the  less  the  odds  against  us  gets.  I  should 
think  even  a  woman  could  see  that." 

Cora   permitted    herself    a    frank    yawn. 
"I'll  explain  it  to  you  to-morrow,"  she  said. 
332 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

"And  now  I  must  go  back  to  my  Jug-gins  for 
a  few  minutes.  I'll  come  and  fetch  you 
when  I'm  ready  to  go." 

"I  don't  fancy  it  much,  you  know,"  he 
urged  upon  her  as  she  turned.  He  took  a 
step  toward  her,  and  put  his  hand  on  her 
arm.  "If  your  brother  Tom  was  any  good" 
—he  began,  with  a  hard  growl  in  his  voice — 
"by  God,  I'd  have  half  a  mind  to  talk  with 
him  about  my  plan.  Old  Pirie'd  be  no  use — 
but  if  Tom  had  the  sense  and  the  nerve — 
why,  we'd — " 

She  had  held  his  eye  with  a  steady,  com 
prehending  glance,  under  the  embarrassment 
of  which  his  speech  faltered  and  then  lapsed 
altogether.  "No,  the  less  either  you  or 
Tom  have  to  do  with  your  plan  the  better. 
Go  in  now,  and  take  a  plain  soda,  and  wait 
for  me!  You've  got  no  plan,  mind  you. 
You've  simply  been  dreaming  about  it.  Do 
you  hear?  You  never  had  a  plan!  You 
can't  have  one!' 

She  spoke  with  significant  authority,  and 
he  deferred  to  it  with  a  sullen  upward  wag 
of  the  head.  "All  right,"  he  muttered 
curtly,  and  turned  on  his  heel. 

"Plain  soda,  mind!"  she  called  after  him, 
and  without  waiting  for  an  answer,  ran 
briskly  up  the  steps  toward  the  stage. 

Captain  Edward's  plain  soda  had  become  a 

333 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

remote  and  almost  wholly  effaced  memory 
by  the  time  his  wife  again  summoned  him 
from  the  manager's  room. 

"We'll  cut  this  now,  if  you  don't  mind," 
she  remarked,  in  her  rn ost  casual  tone.  "I'm 
as  tired  as  if  I'd  danced  every  minute. "  She 
had  put  on  her  wraps,  and  her  small,  pretty 
face,  framed  by  the  white  down  of  her  hood, 
seemed  to  his  scrutiny  to  wear  an  expression 
of  increased  contentment. 

"Anything  fresh?"  he  asked,  as  they  went 
in  search  of  his  coat  and  hat. 

"Yes — fresh  is  the  word,"  she  replied, 
with  simulated  nonchalance.  "Fresh, 
fresher,  freshest — as  we  used  to  say  at 
school. ' ' 

"Wha'  is  it?"  he  inquired,  when  they  were 
within  touch  of  the  open  air.  The  music  was 
still  audible  behind  them,  broken  by  faint, 
intermittent  echoes  of  stamping  feet  and 
laughing  voices. 

"I'll  tell  you  about  it  in  the  morning," 
she  answered  listlessly.  "I  hope  to  heaven 
you've  got  a  cab -fare." 

"Yes,  tha's  all  right,"  said  Edward,  wav 
ing  his  stick  toward  the  rank  in  the  dark 
middle  distance  of  the  street.  "Whyn't 
you  tell  me  all  about  it?" 

"Oh,  you  wouldn't  get  onto  it  now,"  she 
replied.  But  later,  in  the  hansom,  the  desire 
334 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

to  unburden  her  mind  achieved  the  mastery. 

4 'Are  you  awake?"  she  demanded,  and 
went  on:  "He's  not  a  bad  sort,  that  boy, 
you  know. ' ' 

"Damn  him!"  said  Edward,  breathing 
heavily. 

* '  I  rather  like  him  myself, ' '  she  continued. 
"He's  a  bit  slow  to  talk  to,  and  he's  fresher 
than  Devonshire  cream,  but  there  isn't  a 
drop  of  the  Johnnie  in  him.  He's  as  clean 
as  my  little  girl." 

"Damn  him,"  repeated  her  husband,  but 
in  a  milder  and  even  argumentative  tone. 

"He's  a  proper  bundle  of  nerves,  that 
youngster,"  she  mused,  as  if  talking  to  her 
self.  "And  whatever  those  nerves  of  his 
tell  him  to  do,  he'll  do  it.  And  I'd  lay  odds 
he's  goin'  to  surprise  us  all.  He's  got  some 
thing  boilin'  in  his  mind — something  that's 
just  struck  him  to-night — I  could  see  that. 
Oh,  if  I  was  a  man! — I'd  get  out  of  this 
hansom  now,  and  I'd  follow  that  lad,  and 
I'd  get  hold  of  him  somehow,  and  I'd  bend 
him  any  way  I  chose — that  would  be  some 
thing  like! — but  then  again,  you  take  him 
some  other  way,  and  he's  as  stubborn  as  a 
moke.  But  I  like  him,  all  the  same."  She 
turned  toward  her  husband,  and  lifted  her 
voice  a  little.  "I  like  him  so  much,  I'm 
thinkin'  of  havin'  him  for  a  brother-in-law." 
335 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

"Strornary  thing,"  commented  Edward, 
earnestly,  "no  mar'er  where  I  start  from, 
whenever  I  get  t'  the  Circus,  I  get  the 
hiccups." 

Cora  put  her  head  back  against  the 
cushions,  and  closed  her  eyes. 


336 


CHAPTER   XVI 

Christian  discovered  that  he  was  not  sorry 
to  be  alone.  Cora's  company  had  been  amus 
ing  and  vivifying,  no  doubt,  but  it  was  even 
better  now  to  have  his  own  thoughts.  He 
observed  with  relief  that  others  in  the  stalls 
were  smoking;  tobacco  as  a  rule  had  not 
very  much  meaning  for  him,  but  now  he  lit 
a  large  cigar  from  the  dinner-case  in  his 
pocket,  and  stretching  himself  in  his  chair, 
proceeded  to  enjoy  it.  He  kept  his  glance, 
in  an  indolent  fashion,  upon  the  stage,  but 
his  mind  roamed  far  and  wide. 

Cora,  in  returning  to  explain  that  it  would 
not  be  possible  for  her  to  stay  till  the  time 
for  Covent  Garden,  had  ingenuously  sat  on 
for  nearly  another  hour,  cheering  him  with 
her  lively  prattle.  She  asked  him  many 
questions  about  himself,  his  diversions,  his 
tastes,  his  relations  with  Lord  Julius  and 
Emanuel.  He  wondered  now  if  these 
queries  had  been  quite  as  artless  as  they 
seemed  at  the  time.  There  rose  up  before 
him,  in  retrospect,  certain  occasional  phases 
of  her  manner  which  suggested  something 
337 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

furtive.  She  had  watched  the  stage,  and 
the  doorway  leading  from  it,  with  a  kind  of 
detached  uneasiness  on  which  he  now 
languidly  speculated.  It  occurred  to  him 
again  to  wonder  if  her  husband  was  really  in 
the  building.  Christian  found  himself  think 
ing  of  this  cousin  of  his  almost  with  compas 
sion.  Poor  devil!  Was  his  fate  not  even  more 
tragic  than  that  of  the  others  who  were  merely 
dead?  He  regretted  now  that  he  had  not 
asked  Cora  point-blank  as  to  his  presence.  His 
mood  was  so  tolerant  to-night  that  even  the 
unforgivable  insult  to  his  father  lost  its  sharp 
outlines,  and  became  only  a  hasty  phrase, 
the  creature  of  imperative  provocation. 

In  her  final  leave-taking,  Cora  had  genially 
proffered  her  services  if  he  desired  to  know 
any  or  all  of  the  young  ladies — and  he  had 
begged  to  be  excused.  Dicky  Westland 
came  down  to  the  stalls  later  on,  and  shame 
facedly  linked  a  similar  offer  to  his  apologies 
for  his  prolonged  neglect  of  his  guest.  But 
Christian  protested  that  he  was  enjoying 
himself  thoroughly.  He  was  never  less 
sleepy  in  his  life ;  he  did  not  want  a  drink ; 
he  would  not  dream  of  wishing  to  go  until 
his  friend  was  entirely  ready.  "You  cannot 
realize,"  he  concluded,  with  his  persuasive 
smile,  "how  strange  and  interesting  this  all 
is  to  me." 

338 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

But  when  Dicky  had  returned  again  to  the 
stage,  Christian  paid  less  attention  than  ever 
to  the  diverting  spectacle.  His  thoughts 
reverted  obstinately  to  Captain  Edward — 
and  to  that  portion  of  the  family  of  which  he 
was  the  congenital  type.  Was  not  that 
really  the  sort  of  man  who  should  have  the 
title?  There  seemed  a  cloud  of  negative 
reasons,  but  were  these  not  sentimental 
abstractions?  Should  the  duke  not  be  a 
rough,  hard  sportsman,  a  man  with  a  passion 
for  horses  and  dogs  and  gunpowder  saturat 
ing  his  veins?  One  who  loved  the  country 
for  its  rude,  toilsome  out-of-door  sports,  and 
who  liked  best  in  town  the  primitive  amuse 
ments  of  the  natural  man?  He  figured 
Edward  in  his  mind's  eye  most  readily  as 
puffing  and  cursing  over  a  rat-hole  with  his 
terriers — or  as  watching  with  a  shine  of 
steel  in  his  blue  eyes  the  blood-stained 
progress  of  a  prize-fight.  And  truly,  were 
these  not  the  things  that  a  duke  of  Glaston- 
bury  of  right  belonged  to? 

He  could  not  think  of  Lord  Julius  and  of 
Emanuel  as  being  Torrs  at  all.  The  older 
man  had  the  physical  inheritance  of  the 
family,  it  was  true,  but  he  was  almost  as 
much  estranged  from  its  ideals  as  that  extra 
ordinary  son  of  his.  They  both  were 
grotesquely  out  of  the  picture  of  English 
339 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

aristocratic  life,  whether  in  country  or  town. 
And  he  himself — how  absolutely  he  also  was 
out  of  the  picture ! 

The  immensity  of  the  position  which  his 
grandfather's  death  would  devolve  upon  him 
had  been  present  in  his  mind,  it  seemed 
sleeping  as  well  as  waking,  for  half  a  year. 
At  the  outset  he  had  thrilled  at  the  prospect ; 
sometimes  still  he  was  able  to  reassure  him 
self  about  it,  and  to  profess  to  himself  con 
fidence  that  when  the  emergency  came,  he 
would  be  equal  to  it.  But  more  often,  in 
these  latter  days,  the  outlook  depressed  him. 
Of  course  nothing  grievous  would  happen 
to  him,  in  any  event.  He  would  be  assured 
of  an  excellent  living  to  the  end  of  his  days, 
with  an  exceptional  amount  of  social  defer 
ence  from  those  about  him,  and  relative  free 
dom  to  do  what  he  liked.  He  could  marry 
and  rear  a  family  of  lords  and  ladies;  he 
could  have  his  speeches  in  the  House  of 
Lords  or  elsewhere  printed  in  the  "Times"; 
if  he  looked  about  in  America,  he  could 
secure  a  bride  with  perhaps  millions  to  her 
dower.  There  was,  in  any  case,  the  reason 
able  likelihood  that  he  would  be,  to  some 
extent,  the  heir  of  Lord  Julius  and  Emanuel, 
in  the  latter  part  of  his  life.  Thus  he  could 
go  on,  when  he  set  himself  to  the  task,  piling 
up  reasons  why  he  ought  to  view  the  future 
340 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

with  buoyant  serenity — to  count  himself 
among  the  happiest  of  men. 

But  then — was  this  not  all  self-deception? 
Did  he  not  know  in  his  heart  that  he  was 
not  happy? — that  this  gilded  and  ornate 
career  awaiting  him  really  repelled  all  his 
finer  senses?  To-night  as  he  followed  his 
thoughts  behind  the  transparent  screen  of 
whisking  dresses  and  jolting  figures  upon 
which  his  outer  vision  rested,  the  impulse 
to  escape  the  whole  thing  rose  strong  within 
him.  Already  he  had  sworn  that  he  would 
no  longer  weary  himself  with  the  meaning 
less  and  distasteful  routine  of  social  obliga 
tions  in  London.  Why  should  he  not  plunge 
boldly  forward  beyond  that,  and  say  that  he 
would  make  no  further  sacrifices  of  any  sort 
to  the  conventions  of  mediocrity? 

He  lit  another  cigar  and,  rising,  walked 
about  a  little  by  himself  at  the  side  of  the 
stalls,  his  hands  deep  in  his  pockets,  his  brows 
knitted  in  formative  introspection. 

First  of  all,  it  was  clear  that  Emanuel's 
hopes  about  his  taking  up  the  System  were 
doomed.  It  was  not  in  him  to  assume  such 
a  part.  He  had  not  the  capacity  for  such 
work;  even  if  he  had,  he  lacked  both  the 
tremendous  driving  energy  and  the  enthu 
siasm. 

But  when  Emanuel  learned  this,  then  he 
34i 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

would  be  angry,  and  he  would  cover  over  no 
more  money  to  that  account  at  the  bank. 
Eh  bien !  It  couldn't  be  helped.  Christian 
recalled  that  he  had  still  at  that  blessed  bank 
more  than  sixty  thousand  francs! — truly  a 
prodigious  sum,  when  one  thought  of  it 
soberly.  The  question  whether  this  sum 
ought  not  to  be  given  back  to  Emanuel,  under 
certain  circumstances,  seemed  to  have  settled 
itself.  When  it  had  first  occurred  to  him  that 
afternoon,  it  had  suggested  a  good  many 
moral  difficulties.  But  it  was  really  simplicity 
itself,  as  he  considered  it  now.  There  were 
all  those  lean  and  poverty-stricken  years  of 
his  youth  and  childhood  to  be  remembered — 
and,  stretching  back  beyond  that,  those  other 
years  of  his  father's  exile  before  he  was 
born — nearly  forty  in  all.  The  intelligent 
thing  was  to  regard  the  three  thousand 
pounds  as  a  sort  of  restitution  fund,  to  be 
spread  out  over  the  whole  of  that  long  period. 
Viewed  in  this  light,  the  annual  fraction  of 
it  was  a  paltry  matter.  Besides,  Emanuel 
had  expressly  declared  that  no  conditions 
whatever  were  attached  to  the  money. 
Christian  saw  that  he  could  make  his  mind 
quite  easy  on  that  score. 

So  then,  there  were  sixty  thousand  francs ! 
With   that    he  might    live  admirably,   even 
luxuriously,    on    the     Continent,    until    his 
342 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

grandfather's  death.  That  event  would  of 
course  alter  everything.  There  would  then 
come  automatically  to  him — no  matter  where 
he  was  or  what  he  did — a  certain  fixed  in 
come,  which  he  understood  to  be  probably 
over  rather  than  under  seventy-five  thou 
sand  francs  a  year.  This — still  on  the  Con 
tinent — would  be  almost  incredible  wealth! 
There  was  really  no  limit  to  the  soul-satisfy 
ing  possibilities  it  opened  before  him.  He 
would  have  a  yacht  on  the  Mediterranean; 
he  would  have  a  little  chateau  in  the  mar 
velous  green  depths  of  the  Styrian  Moun 
tains — of  which  a  boyhood  friend  had  told 
him  with  such  tender  reverence  of  memory. 
He  would  see  Innsbruck  and  Moscow,  and, 
if  he  liked,  even  Samarkand  and  China. 
Why,  he  could  go  round  the  world  in  his 
yacht,  if  he  chose — to  remote  spice  islands  and 
tropical  seas!  He  could  be  a  duke  when, 
and  as  much,  as  it  pleased  him  to  be 
one.  Instead  of  being  the  slave  to  his  posi 
tion  and  title,  he  would  make  them  minister 
to  him.  He  would  do  original  things — 
realize  his  own  inner  fancies  and  predilec 
tions.  If  the  whim  seized  him  to  climb 
Mount  Ararat,  or  to  cross  the  Sahara  with  a 
caravan  of  his  own  servants — that  he  would 
do.  But  above  all  things — now  and  hence 
forth  forever,  he  would  be  a  free  man !  He 

343 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

laughed  grimly  as  he  thought  how  slight 
was  the  actual  difference  between  the  life  of 
pauper  bondage  he  had  led  up  to  last 
October,  and  the  existence  which  polite 
England  and  London  had  imposed  upon  him 
ever  since.  The  second  set  of  chains  were 
of  precious  metal — that  was  all.  Well, 
hereafter  there  would  be  no  fetters  of  any 
description ! 

4 'I'm  quite  ready  to  go  now,  old  man,  if 
you  are,"  Dicky  Westland  said  at  some 
belated  stage  of  this  reverie.  He  had 
approached  without  being  seen  by  his 
friend,  and  he  had  to  pull  at  Christian's 
sleeve  to  attract  his  attention.  "I  fancy 
you've  been  walking  in  your  sleep,"  he 
laughed,  in  comment  upon  this. 

Christian  shook  himself,  and,  blinking  at 
Dicky,  protested  that  he  had  never  been 
more  wide  awake  in  his  life.  "I  go  only  if 
you're  entirely  ready,"  he  said.  "Don't 
dream  of  leaving  on  my  account.  I  have 
been  extremely  interested,  I  assure  you. ' ' 

"Every  fellow  has  his  own  notions  of 
enjoyment,"  reflected  Westland,  with 
drowsy  philosophy,  as  they  went  up  the 
stairs  toward  the  stage.  "I  tried  to  explain 
your  point  of  view  to  some  of  the  girls  up 
here,  but  I'm  not  sure  they  quite  grasped  it. 
They  were  dying  to  have  me  bring  you  up 

344 


GLORIA  MUNDI 

and  make  you  dance,  you  know.  By 
George,  I  had  a  job  to  keep  Dolly  Montressor 
from  coming  down  and  fetching  you,  off  her 
own  bat." 

"How  should  they  know  or  care  about 
me?"  asked  Christian.  "I  didn't  expect  to 
be  pointed  out. " 

"My  dear  man,"  retorted  Dicky,  sleepily, 
"no  one  pointed  you  out.  They  all  know 
you  by  sight  as  well  as  they  do  George 
Edwardes.  It  isn't  too  late,  still,  you  know 
— if  you  really  would  like  to  be  introduced. ' ' 

Christian  shook  his  head  with  resolution, 
as  they  halted  at  the  wings.  "Truly,  no!" 
he  repeated.  "But  I  should  like  a  glass  of 
wine  and  a  sandwich,  if  we  can  get  past  the 
stage.  I'm  not  an  atom  sleepy,  but  I'm 
hungry  and  thirsty. ' ' 

On  their  way  through  a  narrow,  shadowed 
defile  of  huge  canvas-stretched  frames  of 
deal,  they  passed  two  young  men,  one  much 
taller  than  the  other,  who  had  their  heads 
bent  together  in  some  low-voiced,  private 
conversation.  Christian  glanced  at  them 
casually,  and  was  struck  with  the  notion  that 
they  observed  him  in  turn,  and  exchanged 
comment  upon  his  approach.  He  looked  at 
them  with  a  keener  scrutiny  as  he  went  by — 
and  it  seemed  to  him  that  there  was  some 
thing  familiar  in  the  face  of  the  larger  man 

345 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

—who  indeed  looked  away  upon  the  instant 
their  eyes  met. 

"Did  you  see  those  men?"  he  asked  West- 
land,  in  an  undertone,  a  moment  later.  "Do 
you  know  them?" 

"Those  we  just  passed?"  Dicky  looked 
over  his  shoulder.  "I  don't  know  the  thin 
chap,  but  the  other  fellow  is  Gus  Torr — why, 
of  course — your  cousin.  Somehow,  I  never 
think  of  you  as  belonging  to  that  lot — I 
mean,  being  related  to  them.  Of  course — 
that  was  his  sister-in-law  you  were  sitting 
with.  Why  did  you  ask  if  I  knew  him?" 

4 '  Nothing — I  was  not  sure  if  it  was  he — 
I've  seen  him  only  once,"  Christian  replied, 
with  an  assumption  of  indifference.  "I 
remember  having  noticed  then  how  much  he 
looked  like  his  brother. ' ' 

"Yes — poor  devils!"  commented  Dicky,  as 
they  entered  the  manager's  room.  Appar 
ently  it  was  in  his  mind  to  say  more,  but  the 
place  was  crowded,  and  the  problem  of  get 
ting  through  the  throng  to  the  food  and 
drink  monopolized  his  attention. 

Some  minutes  later,  while  Christian  stood 
in  another  corridor,  waiting  for  his  friend  to 
bring  their  hats  and  coats  from  the  mysteri 
ously  elusive  spot  where  he  had  left  them, 
he  overheard  the  mention  of  his  name.  Two 
women's  voices,  wholly  unknown  to  him, 
346 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

came  from  behind  an  improvised  partition  of 
screens  near  at  hand,  with  great  distinctness. 

One  of  them  said:  "He  spells  his  name 
'Tower,'  you  know.  I  understand  the  idea 
is  to  make  people  forget  who  his  father 
was. ' ' 

"Good  job,  too!"  replied  the  other  voice. 

Christian  turned  abruptly,  and  strode  off 
in  the  direction  whither  Dicky  had  disap 
peared.  "After  forty  years!"  he  murmured 
hotly  to  himself.  "After  forty  years!"  and 
clenched  his  fists  till  the  nails  hurt  his 
palms. 

The  two  young  men  walked  homeward, 
arm  in  arm,  through  silent  streets  over 
which  the  dawn  was  spreading  its  tentative 
first  lights.  It  was  colder  than  they  had 
thought,  and  the  morning  air  was  at  once 
misty  and  fresh.  In  Leicester  Square  the 
scent  of  lilacs  came  to  them;  beside  the 
pale,  undefined  bulk  of  the  squat  statue  the}' 
caught  the  lavender  splash  of  color  which 
was  sister  to  the  perfume. 

"By  Jove,  it's  spring!"  said  Dicky.  He 
pointed  out  the  flowers,  and  then,  still 
drawing  Christian's  arm  to  turn  his  attention 
to  the  square,  recalled  to  him  as  they  moved 
that  this  was  the  oldtime  haunt  of  foreigners 
in  London.  " Dickens 's  villain  in  'Little 
347 


GLORIA    MUNDI 

Dorrit, '  you  know — the  fellow  whose  mus 
tache  went  up  and  his  nose  went  down — I 
never  can  remember  his  name — he  lived 
here.  In  those  days,  all  that  sort  of  chap 
pies  lived  here — the  adventurers  and  jail 
birds  who  had  made  their  own  countries  too 
hot  to  hold  them." 

Westland's  insistence  upon  this  theme  had 
no  purpose  other  than  to  divert  Christian's 
attention  while  they  passed  the  Empire. 
He  was  tired,  and  profoundly  disinclined  to 
any  renewal  of  the  discussion  about  the 
promenade.  He  encountered  with  vague 
surprise,  therefore,  the  frowning-  glance 
which  Christian,  half  halting,  bent  upon 
him.  The  young  man's  displeasure  was 
marked,  but  Dicky  for  the  life  of  him  could 
not  imagine  why.  He  tightened  his  hold  on 
the  other's  arm  and  quickened  their  pace. 

But  Christian,  after  a  few  yards,  suddenly 
withdrew  his  arm  altogether.  *  'I  do  not  like 
to  walk  so  fast,"  he  said,  with  a  sharp  note 
in  his  voice. 

Dicky  regarded  him  with  puzzled  appre 
hension.  "What's  up,  old  man?"  he  asked, 
almost  pleadingly.  "Has  anything  gone 
wrong?" 

Christian,  still  with  knitted  brows,  parted 
his  lips  to  speak.     Then  he  seemed  to  recon 
sider  his  intention,  and  let  his  face  soften  as 
348 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

he  paused.  "No— nothing  at  all,  "he  re 
plied,  after  a  moment.  He  smiled  a  little  to 
reassure  the  other.  "It  was  nothing  at 
all,"  he  repeated.  "Only  I  am  nervous  and 
excited  to-night — this  morning,  I  should  say 
— and  my  head  is  full  of  projects.  It  is 
twelve  hours  since  you  came  to  me — and  the 
whole  world  has  changed  meanwhile.  I  see 
everything  different.  I  am  not  altered  to 
your  eyes — but  none  the  less,  I  am  not  at 
all,  in  any  respect,  the  man  you  took  to  dine 
with  you.  You  have  not  observed  anything 
— but  it  is  a  revolution  that  has  occurred 
under  your  very  nose,  Mr.  Dicky  West- 
land." 

"I'm  too  sleepy  to  observe  anything,"  the 
other  declared.  "I  couldn't  tell  a  revolution 
from  a — from  a  hot-potato  can." 

The  comparison  had  forced  itself  upon 
Westland's  jaded  mind  through  the  medium 
of  his  weary  eyes.  There  before  them,  by 
the  curb  at  the  corner,  stood  the  dingy 
wheeled-oven  of  the  streets,  the  sullen  red 
glow  of  its  lower  door  making  a  strange 
patch  of  fiery  light  upon  the  ragged  trousers 
of  the  man  in  charge.  He  was  a  dirty  and 
undersized  creature,  and  he  looked  up  at  the 
two  young  gentlemen  in  evening  dress  with 
a  speculative,  yet  hardly  hopeful,  eye. 

Christian    stopped    short.      "Ah,    this  is 

349 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

very  good, ' '  he  said,  with  a  brightening  face. 
"I  have  never  eaten  a  potato  from  a  can." 

Dicky  sighed,  but  resigned  himself  with 
only  a  languid  protest:  "You  have  to  eat 
so  much  else  besides  the  potato,"  he  com 
mented  dolefully. 

The  man  opened  an  upper  door,  and  then 
drew  from  under  the  machine  a  twisted  wad 
of  old  newspaper,  which,  being  unwound, 
revealed  a  gray  heap  of  salt.  "How  many, 
cap'n?"  he  demanded,  briefly. 

Christian  had  been  glancing  across  the 
Circus  meanwhile — to  where,  in  the  misty 
vagueness  of  dawn,  Piccadilly  opened  be 
tween  its  tall,  shapely  corners,  and  beyond, 
the  curved  yellowish  sweep  of  Regent  Street 
began.  The  dim  light  revealed  some  lurk 
ing  figures  to  his  eyes. 

"Can  you  call  over  those  women?"  he 
asked  the  potato-man. 

A  tall,  fresh-faced  young  policeman  came 
upon  the  group  round  the  Criterion  corner. 
Although  the  pounding  of  his  thick  boots  on 
the  pavement  had  been  audible  long  before 
his  appearance,  he  regarded  them  with  the 
slightly  dramatic  air  of  one  who  has  deftly 
surprised  a  group  of  conspirators.  The 
potato-man  looked  from  Christian  to  the 
officer  and  made  no  reply. 

Christian     drew    some     silver     from    his 
35o 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

pocket,  shaking  off  the  restraining  hand 
Westland  tried  to  lay  on  his  arm.  "Is  there 
any  objection,  constable,"  he  inquired,  "to 
my  buying  potatoes  for  those  friends  of  ours 
over  there?  It  is  a  cold  morning. " 

The  policeman's  glance  ranged  from  the 
white  ties  of  the  young  gentlemen  to  the 
coins  in  Christian's  palm.  His  official 
expression  relaxed.  "I  dare  say  it'll  do  no 
'arm,  sir,"  he  replied  with  courtesy.  He 
even  lent  himself  to  the  enterprise  by  stoop 
ing  down  and  beating  a  certain  number  of 
strokes  with  his  baton  on  the  pavement." 

"How  many  times  did  he  strike?"  Dicky 
made  whispered  inquiry.  "That's  a  new 
dodge  to  me." 

New  or  old,  it  was  efficient.  Forlorn 
shapes  began  to  emerge  from  the  shadows  of 
the  big  streets  opposite,  and  move  forward 
across  the  empty  open  space.  Others  stole 
noiselessly  in  from  the  byways  of  Leicester 
Square.  There  were  perhaps  a  dozen  in  all 

when    the    potato-man   made    his   census 

poorly  dressed,  fagged,  bold-faced,  furtive- 
eyed  women.  They  spoke  in  monotonous, 
subdued  tones  among  themselves.  There 
were  to  be  heard  German,  French,  Belgian 
French,  cockney  English,  and  Lancashire 
English.  Two  of  them  pulled  at  the  sleeve 
of  the  potato-man  to  make  him  hurry. 
35i 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

Christian,  regarding  his  motley  guests, 
found  himself  neither  touched  nor  enter 
tained.  They  seemed  as  stupid  as  they  were 
squalid.  With  a  gesture  of  decision  he  gave 
the  money  to  the  policeman. 

"Pay  for  it  all,"  he  directed,  ''and  if  more 
come,  give  them  a  look-in,  too— and  keep 
what  is  left  for  yourself. " 

"Now  then,  tfrenchy!"  broke  in  the  con 
stable,    sharply.      "Mind    what    you're   at! 
Pass  Germany  the  salt!"     With  an  abrupt 
hange  to  civility,  he  turned  to  Christian. 
"Right  you  are,  sir!"  he  said. 
^  Dicky  laughed  drowsily.      "It's  like  the 
Concert  of  Europe,"  he  declared.      "Shall 
we  go  on?" 

They  moved  down  the  broad  pavement, 
again  arm  in  arm,  breathing  in  slowly  the 
new,  keen  air,  and  observing  in  a  silence 
which  was  full  of  tacit  comment  the  beauti 
ful  termination  of  the  street  before  them: 
the  dark  figures  of  the  Crimean  monument 
standing  in  grim  relief  against  the  morning 
light,  the  stately  palace  beyond,  with  its 
formal  portals  of  club  buildings,  its  embow 
ered  statues,  its  huge  column  towering 
ponderously  above  the  pale  green  of  spring 
in  the  park— all  gray  and  cool  and,  as  it 
were,  thoughtfully  solemn  in  the  hush  of 
daybreak. 


352 


GLORIA    MUNDI 

"Ah,  yes— this  wonderful  London!" 
sighed  Christian,  as  they  halted  at  the  Con 
tinental  corner.  He  spread  his  hand  to 
embrace  the  prospect  before  them.  "How 
right  you  were!  I  have  not  learned  to 
know  it  at  all.  But  I  begin  now !  If  you  will 
walk  through  the  square  with  me— there  is 
something  I  wish  to  say. ' ' 

This  something  did  not  get  itself  said  till 
they  halted  within  this  somber,  slate-colored 
square.  Christian  paused  before  a  big,  pre 
tentious  house  of  gloomy,  and  even  forbid 
ding  aspect — a  front  of  sooty  stucco,  with 
cornices  of  ashen-hued  stone,  and  many 
windows  masked  with  sullen  brown  shades. 

"This  was  our  town  house  a  hundred 
years  ago,"  he  said  meditatively.  "My 
father  was  born  here.  My  grandfather  sold 
it  when  the  entail  was  broken.  Until  this 
afternoon,  it  was  my  fixed  resolve  to  buy  it 
back  again.  I  said  always  to  myself:  'If  I 
am  to  have  a  house  in  London,  it  must  be 
this  old  one  of  ours  in  St.  James's.'  But 
that  is  all  changed  now.  At  least,  it  is  no 
longer  a  resolve. ' ' 

Dicky  gazed  at  him  with  sleepy  eyes. 
"How  do  you  mean?"  he  asked,  per 
functorily. 

"Wake  up  now,  and  I  will  tell  you!"  Chris 
tian,  with  a  lingering  glance,  as  of  renuncia- 
353 


GLORIA    MUNDI 

tion,  at  the  mansion,  began  to  walk  again. 
"This  is  it.  You  said  you  were  eager  to  be 
some  colonial  official's  secretary — to  have 
three  hundred  pounds — and  the  yellow  fever. 
To  obtain  this,  you  expend  all  your  energies, 
you  and  your  relations.  Well,  then — why 
will  you  not  be  my  secretary  instead?  You 
shall  have  more  than  three  hundred  pounds 
— and  no  yellow  fever. ' ' 

Westland  had  roused  himself,  and  looked 
inquiringly  now  into  the  other's  face. 
"What  do  you  need  of  a  secretary?"  he 
objected,  half  jestingly.  "If  you  want  to 
talk  about  it  after  you've  come  into  the 
thing — I  don't  say  that  I  shouldn't  be  glad 
to  consider  it.  But  the  deuce  of  it  is " 

"No — I  wish  it  to  begin  now,  this  morn 
ing,  this  hour — this  minute!"  Christian 
spoke  peremptorily. 

Dicky,  pondering,  shook  his  head.  "No, 
you  mustn't  insist  on  settling  anything 
now,"  he  decided.  "It  isn't  regular,  you 
know.  If  you — really — want  to  propose 
something  immediate — why,  I'll  call  and 
talk  with  you  to-morrow — or,  that  is  to  say, 
this  afternoon.  But  I  couldn't  possibly  let 
you  commit  yourself  to  anything  of  that  sort 
now." 

Christian  frowned  at  his  friend.  "You 
speak  of  what  you  will  let  me  do!"  he  said. 

354 


GLORIA    MUNDI 

"In  your  opinion — I  see  it! — you  think  I 
have  not  sober  command  of  myself,  am  not 
responsible — is  that  it?" 

"Nonsense!  I've  said  nothing  of  the 
sort,"  protested  the  other.  "Of  course, 
you're  perfectly  all  right — but  we're  both 
tired  and  sleepy,  and  you're  not  so  accus 
tomed  to  go  home  by  daylight  as  I  am — and 
it  wouldn't  be  at  all  the  thing  for  me  to 
close  a  bargain  with  you  now.  Can't  you 
see  what  I  mean?  I  wouldn't  play  three 
penny  ecarte  with  you  at  this  hour  in  the 
morning — and  I'm  damned  if  I'm  going  to 
let  you  in  for  three  hundred  a  year  for  the 
rest  of  my  life.  Shall  I  come  round,  say,  at 
luncheon  time?" 

"I  shall  not  be  in,"  said  Christian,  curtly. 
He  looked  at  his  companion,  and  then  past 
him  at  the  trees  in  the  square,  in  vexed 
rumination.  "What  I  have  it  in  my  mind 
to  do" — he  continued,  vaguely,  after  a  pause 
—"it  is  not  a  thing  for  delay.  It  is  in  my 
blood  to  do  it  at  once.  It  was  my  impulse  to 
make  you  my  comrade  in  it — but  of  course, 
since  you  have  your  reservations  and  doubts, 
there  need  be  nothing  more  said  about  it. ' ' 

The  shrug  of  the  shoulders  which  empha 
sized  these  last  words  nettled  Westland,  and 
at  the  same  time  helped  him  to  repress  his 
annoyance.  It  lent  to  the  whole  episode  just 

355 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

that  savor  of  foreign  eccentricity  which 
appealed  to  the  amiable  tolerance  of  the 
islander. 

"My  dear  man,"  he  urged,  gently,  "I 
haven't  the  slightest  notion  what  it  is  that 
you're  so  keen  about — but  whatever  it  is,  do 
go  home  and  sleep  on  it,  and  make  up  your 
mind  calmly  after  breakfast.  It's  no  good 
deciding  important  questions,  and  striking 
out  new  lines,  and  all  that  sort  of  thing,  at 
this  hour  in  the  morning.  Nobody  ever 
does  it,  you  know.  It  simply  can't  be  done. ' ' 

"Good-night!"  said  Christian,  proffering 
his  hand.  "You  are  right;  it  is  high  time 
for  those  who  are  sleepy  to  go  to  bed  I 
won't  drag  you  round  to  Duke  Street." 

Dicky  looked  at  him  doubtfully.  "You  do 
wrong  to  be  angry,  you  know, ' '  he  said. 

"But  that  is  your  error — I  am  not  in  the 
least  angry — I  beg  you  to  believe  it,"  cried 
Christian.  His  eyes  beamed  genially  in 
proof  of  his  assertion,  and  he  put  heartiness 
into  his  voice.  "For  a  minute  I  was  disap 
pointed — shall  I  say  vexed? — but  not  any 
more.  How  should  I  quarrel  with  you  for 
not  beholding  things  through  my  eyes?  To 
me,  something  is  a  giant ;  you  perceive  that 
it  is  a  windmill.  Eh  bien !  We  do  not  con 
vince  each  other — but  surely  we  do  not 
quarrel." 

356 


GLORIA  MUND1 

"Oh,  I  am  game  enough  to  play  Sancho 
to  your  Don,"  expostulated  Dicky,  with  a 
readiness  which  Christian  had  not  looked 
for,  "but  I  draw  the  line  at  starting  out  on 
an  empty  stomach,  and  when  we're  too 
sleepy  to  stand.  Well,  what  shall  it  be?" 
He  took  the  hand  offered  him,  and  strove  to 
signify  by  his  cordial  grasp  that  no  trace  of 
a  misunderstanding  remained.  "Shall  I 
look  you  up,  say,  at  two  o'clock?" 

"I  do  not  think  I  shall  be  there.  Good 
night!"  responded  Christian,  and  the  two 
parted. 


357 


CHAPTER  XVII 

Christian  climbed  the  stairs  at  Duke 
Street,  and  let  himself  into  his  apartments, 
with  painstaking  precautions  against  being 
overheard.  There  was  an  excess  of  zeal 
about  Falkner  which  might  easily  impel  him 
to  present  himself  for  service  at  even  this 
most  unseasonable  hour. 

The  young  man  had  still  only  formless 
notions  of  what  he  was  going  to  do,  but  it 
was  at  least  plain  to  him  that  Falkner  was  to 
have  no  part  in  the  proceedings.  He  drew 
off  his  varnished  boots  as  a  further  measure 
of  security,  and  then,  with  more  hesitation, 
removed  his  cloak  and  coat,  and  raised  the 
inside  blinds  at  the  two  windows.  This 
sitting-room  of  his  had  rather  pleased  him 
formerly.  He  could  recall  having  taken 
quite  an  affectionate  interest  in  buying  and 
arranging  the  rugs  and  pictures  and  book 
cases  with  which  he  had  supplemented  the 
somewhat  gaunt  furnishing  of  his  pred 
ecessor.  But  now,  in  this  misty  and 
reluctant  light  of  the  London  morning,  noth 
ing  seemed  good  to  him  as  he  looked  about. 
359 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

The  pretty  things  of  his  own  selection  said 
no  more  to  him  than  did  the  chattels  he  had 
taken  over  from  a  stranger.  There  was  no 
spirit  of  home  in  them. 

He  moved  noiselessly  to  the  adjoining 
bedroom,  and  drew  the  curtains  there  as 
well,  and  glanced  round.  Here,  too,  he  had 
the  sense  of  beholding  the  casual  appoint 
ments  of  a  hotel  chamber.  Nothing  made 
an  appeal  of  intimacy  to  him.  He  reflected 
that  in  a  day  or  two  he  should  not  be  able  to 
remember  how  his  room  looked — even  if  his 
memory  attempted  the  fatuous  task.  Duke 
Street  had  been  engraved  on  his  cards  for 
six  months,  but  it  had  not  made  the  faintest 
mark  on  his  heart. 

With  an  air  of  decision,  he  suddenly  began 
to  drag  forth  his  clothes  from  the  wardrobe 
and  drawers,  and  spread  them  on  the  bed. 
In  the  tiny  dressing-room  beyond  were  piled 
his  traveling  bags,  and  these  he  brought  out 
into  the  light.  Upon  consideration,  how 
ever,  the  original  impulse  to  take  a  good 
many  things  weakened  and  dwindled.  To 
begin  with,  their  secret  removal  was  in  no 
way  practicable.  Moreover,  now  that  he 
thought  of  it,  he  did  not  want  them.  They 
would  be  simply  encumbrances.  He  would 
take  with  him  only  the  smallest  handbag, 
with  a  change  of  linen  and  a  few  brushes. 
360 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

Finally,  the  conviction  that  even  this  must 
be  a  nuisance  became  clear  to  him,  and  he 
desisted  from  the  random  packing  he  had 
begun.  Still  moving  about  as  silently  as 
possible,  he  changed  his  ceremonial  tie  for 
one  of  every-day  wear,  and  put  on  a  suit  of 
sober-colored  tweeds,  and  his  easiest  brown 
boots.  The  transfer  of  his  watch,  some 
loose  gold  and  the  roll  of  notes  from  one  set 
of  pockets  to  another,  completed  his  prepara 
tions  in  the  bedchamber.  He  tiptoed  out  to 
the  larger  room,  and  there,  upon  reflection, 
wrote  a  few  lines  for  Falkner's  direction, 
saying  merely  that  he  was  called  away,  and 
that  matters  were  to  go  on  as  usual  until  he 
returned  or  sent  further  orders.  He  sepa 
rated  a  banknote  from  the  roll  to  place  inside 
this  note,  but  on  second  thoughts  wrote  a 
check  instead,  and  sealing  and  directing  the 
envelope,  laid  it  in  a  conspicuous  place  on 
the  table. 

He  noticed  then,  for  the  first  time,  that 
there  were  some  letters  from  the  evening 
post  for  him,  neatly  arranged  on  this  table. 
He  opened  the  nearest,  and  glanced  at  its 
contents:  it  was  a  note  from  his  second 
cousin,  Lady  Milly  Poynes,  the  fair-haired, 
fair-faced,  fair-brained,  fair-everything  sister 
of  Lord  Lingfield,  reminding  him  that  she 
was  depending  upon  his  escort  for  the  Private 
361 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

View  of  the  Academy,  and  that  the  time  for 
getting  tickets  was  running  very  short.  He 
laughed  aloud  at  the  conceit  of  the  Royal 
Academy  rising  in  his  path  as  an  obstacle  at 
such  a  moment — and  without  more  ado 
thrust  this  with  the  unopened  letters  into 
his  pocket.  Then,  when  he  had  made  sure 
once  more  that  he  had  his  check-book, 
nothing  remained  to  be  done.  He  went 
softly  forth,  without  so  much  as  a  thought 
of  taking  a  farewell  glance  behind  him, 
found  a  soft  dark  hat  in  the  hallway  and 
then  closed  the  outer  door  with  great  care 
upon  the  whole  Duke  Street  episode  of  his 
life. 

"You  are  not  to  see  me  here  again  in  a 
hurry,"  he  confided  aloud  to  the  banisters 
and  steps,  when  he  had  descended  to  the 
first  floor.  Then  he  laughed  to  himself,  and 
tripped  gaily  down  the  remaining  flight. 

There  was  no  hesitation  now  in  his  mood. 
He  walked  briskly  back  through  the  square, 
and  then  down  Waterloo  Place,  till  he  came 
to  the  Guards' Memorial.  He  moved  round 
this  to  the  front,  and  looked  up  at  one  of  the 
three  bronze  Guardsmen  with  the  confident 
air  of  familiarity.  He  knew  this  immutable, 
somber  face  under  every  shifting  aspect  of 
light  and  shadow;  he  had  stared  at  the 
mantling  greatcoat  and  the  huge  bearskin 
362 


GLORIA  MUNDI 

of  this  hero  of  his  a  hundred  times.  The 
very  first  day  of  his  arrival  in  London  he 
had  made  the  acquaintance  of  this  statue, 
and  had  started,  dazed  and  fascinated,  at  the 
strange  resemblance  it  suggested.  Thus 
his  boy-father  must  have  looked,  with  the 
beard  and  the  heavy  dress  of  the  Russian 
winter.  The  metal  figure  came  to  mean  to 
him  more  than  all  London  beside.  In  the 
sad,  strong,  silent  countenance  which  gazed 
down  upon  him  he  read  forever  the  tragedy 
that  gripped  his  heartstrings.  Forever 
Honor,  standing  aloft,  held  the  laurel  wreath 
poised  high  above  the  warrior's  head — im 
movable  in  the  air,  never  to  descend  to 
touch  its  mark.  Christian  had  seen  this 
wreath  always  through  moist  eyes. 

This  morning,  for  a  wonder,  no  tearful 
impulse  came  to  him  as  he  looked  upward. 
The  impassive  face  was  as  gravely  fine  as 
ever,  but  its  customary  effect  of  pathos  was 
lacking.  There  even  seemed  in  its  sight 
less  eyes  a  latent  perception  of  Christian's 
altered  mood.  He  lifted  his  hat  soberly  and 
saluted  the  statue. 

Toward  the  Strand  now  he  made  his  way, 
walking  blithely,  and  humming  to  himself.' 
He  could  not  forbear  to  smile  at  a  policeman 
he  passed  in  front  of  St.  Martin's.  Two 
elderly  and  much  bewrapped  cabmen  stood 
363 


GLORIA  MUNDI 

stamping  their  feet  beside  a  shelter,  and 
they  pointed  toward  their  ridiculous  old 
horses  and  battered  growlers  as  he  came 
along,  with  an  air  that  moved  him  to  glee. 
He  gave  them  a  shilling  to  divide,  and  went 
on,  conscious  of  a  novel  delight  in  himself 
and  in  the  world  at  large. 

The  big  clock  showed  it  to  be  half-past 
five.  There  was  no  blue  in  the  sky,  but  the 
mist  of  daybreak  was  abating,  and  the  air 
was  milder.  Not  a  living  creature  was  vis 
ible  along  the  naked  length  of  the  Strand. 
At  the  end,  the  beautiful  spire  of  St.  Mary's 
rose  from  the  dim  grays  about  its  base, 
exquisite  in  tints  and  contour  as  an  Alpine 
summit  in  the  moment  before  sunrise. 

A  turning  to  the  left  opened  to  Christian, 
unexpectedly,  a  scene  full  of  motion  and 
color.  He  had  not  thought  himself  so  near 
Covent  Garden,  but  clearly  this  must  be  it. 
He  walked  up  toward  the  busy  scene  of 
high-laden  vans,  big  cart-horses  and  swarm 
ing  porters,  wondering  why  no  sign  of  all 
this  activity  was  manifest  in  the  sleeping 
Strand  below,  barely  a  stone's  throw  distant. 
He  saw  the  glowing  banks  of  flowers  within, 
as  he  approached,  and  made  toward  them, 
sighing  already  with  pleasure  at  the  promise 
they  held  out  to  him. 

He  might  have  read  in  the  papers  that  it 
364 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

was  a  backward  and  a  grudging  April,  this 
year,  in  the  matter  of  flowers.  But  to  Chris 
tian,  no  memory  of  the  exuberant  South 
suggested  any  rivalry  with  this  wonderful 
show  of  northern  blossoms.  Tulips  and 
daffodils,  amaryllis  and  azaleas,  rhododen 
drons,  carnations,  roses — he  seemed  to  have 
imagined  to  himself  nothing  like  this  before. 
He  spent  over  an  hour  among  them,  in  the 
end  making  numerous  purchases.  At  each 
stall  he  gave  an  address — always  the  same 
— and  exacted  the  pledge  of  delivery  at  eight 
o'clock. 

At  last  he  could  in  reason  buy  nothing 
more,  and  he  went  out  to  look  about  him. 
He  found  the  place  where  the  market-men 
take  drinks  at  all  hours,  and  food  and  coffee 
when  nature's  sternest  demands  can  be 
positively  no  longer  disregarded — but  it 
did  not  invite  his  appetite.  Some  further 
time  he  spent  in  gazing  wondering  at  the 
vast  walls  of  vegetables  and  fruit  being  tire 
lessly  built  up  and  pulled  down  again, 
pondering  meanwhile  the  question  whether 
he  should  breakfast  before  eight  o'clock,  or 
at  some  indefinitely  later  hour.  He  partially 
solved  the  problem  at  length  by  buying  a 
small  box  of  Algerian  peaches,  and  eating 
them  where  he  stood.  Then  some  exception 
ally  fine  bananas  tempted  him  further,  and 
365 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

he  finished  with  a  delicate  little  melon  from 
Sicily. 

How  it  carried  him  back  to  the  days  of 
his  youth — this  early  morning  fragrance  of 
the  fresh  fruit!  It  was  as  if  he  were  at 
Cannes  again — only  buoyant  now,  and 
happy,  and  oh,  so  free !  And  in  his  pocket 
he  could  feel  whenever  he  liked  the  soft, 
munificent  crackle  of  over  four  thousand 
francs!  The  sapphire  Mediterranean  had 
surely  never  been  so  lovely  to  his  gaze  as 
was  now  the  dingy  Strand  below. 

The  laggard  hour  came  round  at  last.  He 
descended  to  Arundel  Street,  and  discovered 
the  house  he  wanted,  and  found  just  within 
the  entrance  two  or  three  of  the  flower-laden 
porters  awaiting  his  arrival.  For  the  rest, 
the  building  seemed  profoundly  unoccupied. 
He  led  the  way  up  to  the  third  floor,  and  had 
the  plants  set  down  beside  the  locked  door 
which  bore  the  sign  "Miss  Bailey."  Other 
similarly  burdened  porters  made  their  ap 
pearance  in  turn,  till  the  narrow  hallway 
looked  like  a  floral  annex  to  the  Garden 
itself. 

He  waited  alone  with  his  treasures  for  what 
seemed  to  him  a  very  long  time,  then 
descended  and  stood  at  the  street  door  till 
he  was  tired,  then  climbed  the  stairs  again. 
The  extraordinary  quiet  of  the  big  building, 
366 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

filled  with  business  offices  as  it  was,  puzzled 
him.  He  had  no  experience  of  early-morn 
ing  London  to  warn  him  that  English  habits 
differed  from  those  of  the  continent.  It 
occurred  to  him  that  perhaps  it  was  a  holiday 
— conceivably  one  of  those  extraordinary 
interludes  called  Bank  Holidays — and  he 
essayed  a  perplexing  computation  in  the 
calendar  in  the  effort  to  settle  this  point. 

Finally  there  began  the  sounds  of  steps, 
and  the  opening  and  closing  of  doors,  below 
him.  A  tow-headed  boy  in  buttons  came  up 
to  his  landing,  stared  in  vacuous  amazement 
at  him  and  the  flowers  and  passed  on  to  the 
next  floor.  Noises  of  occupancy  rose  from 
the  well  of  the  staircase  to  bear  him  coun 
tenance,  and  suddenly  a  lift  glided  up  past 
him  in  this  well.  He  had  not  noticed  the 
ropes  or  the  iron  caging  before.  He  heard 
the  slamming  of  the  lift  doors  above,  and 
the  dark  carriage  followed  on  its  smooth 
descent.  Christian  reproached  himself  for 
not  having  rung  the  bell  and  questioned  the 
lift-man.  He  considered  the  feasibility  of 
doing  it  now,  but  was  deterred  by  the  fear 
that  the  man  would  resent  it.  Then  the  lift 
came  up  again — and  was  stopping  at  his 
floor.  There  was  a  sharp  note  of  girlish 
laughter  on  the  instant  of  the  halt,  answered 
by  a  male  guffaw. 

367 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

A  slight,  erect,  active  young  woman 
emerged  from  the  lift,  her  face  alive  with 
mirth  of  some  unknown  character.  Behind 
her,  in  the  obscurity,  Christian  saw  for  an 
instant  the  vanishing  countenance  of  the  lift 
man,  grinning  widely.  This  hilarity,  some 
how,  struck  in  him  an  unsympathetic  chord. 

The  young  woman,  still  laughing,  spread 
an  uncomprehending  glance  over  Christian 
and  his  flowers.  She  moved  past  him,  key 
in  hand,  toward  the  door  which  he  had  been 
guarding,  with  a  puzzled  eye  upon  him 
meanwhile.  With  the  key  in  the  lock  she 
turned  and  decided  to  speak. 

4 'What  might  all  this  be— the  Temple 
Flower  Show  or  the  Crystal  Palace?"  she 
asked,  with  banter  in  her  tone. 

4 'These  are  for  Miss  Bailey,"  said  Chris 
tian,  quite  humbly. 

"Must  be  some  mistake,"  said  the  girl 
decisively.  "Did  she  order  them  herself? 
Were  you  there  at  the  time?  Did  you  see 
her?  Where  do  they  come  from?" 

Christian  advanced  a  little  into  the  light. 
"She  has  not  ordered  them,"  he  said,  in  his 
calmest  voice.  "I  have  not  seen  her  for  a 
long  time.  But  I  have  brought  them  for 
her,  and  I  think  you  may  take  it  from  me 
that  they  are  hers. ' ' 

"Oh,  I  beg  your  pardon,"  she  replied, 
368 


GLORIA  MUNDI 

lightly  but  with  grace.  "I  didn't  under 
stand.  Things  are  forever  being  brought 
here  that  belong  somewhere  else.  Men  are 
so  stupid  in  finding  their  way  about !  Well 
—I  suppose  we  must  get  them  inside.  That 
is  your  idea,  isn't  it?" 

She  spoke  very  rapidly,  and  with  a  kind  of 
metallic  snap  in  her  tones.  Christian 
answered  her  questions  by  a  suave  assenting 
gesture.  "Miss  Bailey  is  not  likely  to  turn 
up  much  before  half-past  nine,"  she  went 
on,  as  if  he  had  made  the  inquiry.  "She 
lives  so  far  out,  and  just  now  we're  not  very 
busy.  There's  nothing  doing  in  new  plays 
at  this  time  of  the  year,  and  the  lady  novel 
ists  are  all  getting  their  own  typewriters.  If 
you'll  lend  a  hand,  we'll  carry  the  things  in. " 

Between  them  they  bore  in  the  various 
pots,  and  the  big  bouquets  loosely  wrapped  in 
blue  paper.  The  girl  led  the  way  through  a 
large  working-room  to  a  smaller  apartment, 
fitted  as  an  office  but  containing  also  a  sofa 
and  a  tall  gas  cooking-stove— and  here  on 
desk  and  center-table,  chairs  and  window- 
sill,  they  placed  the  flowers.  Christian 
watched  her  as  she  deftly  removed  their 
paper  wrappings.  She  had  a  comely,  small 
face  of  aspect  at  once  alert  and  masterful. 
The  skin  was  peculiarly  fair,  with  a  tinge 
of  rose  in  the  cheeks  so  delicately  modulated 
369 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

that  he  found  it  in  rivalry  with  the  "Mrs. 
Pauls"  she  was  unpacking.  Her  light  hair 
was  drawn  plainly  down  over  the  temples  in 
a  fashion  which  he  felt  was  distinguished, 
but  said  to  himself  he  did  not  like.  Her 
shrewd  eyes  took  calm  cognizance  of  him 
from  time  to  time. 

"They  are  very  beautiful  indeed,"  she 
remarked  with  judicial  approval,  upon  the 
completion  of  her  task.  Then,  as  upon  an 
afterthought,  she  moved  rapidly  about, 
peering  under  the  branches  of  the  growing 
plants,  and  separating  the  cut  flowers  lightly 
with  her  hands.  "There  is  no  card  any 
where,  is  there?  I  suppose  you  will  want  to 
leave  a  message?  Here  are  pen  and  ink — 
if  you  wish  to  write  anything. ' ' 

"Thank  you,"  Christian  began,  smilingly 
but  with  obvious  hesitation.  He  looked  at 
his  watch.  "If  you  don't  mind — if  you're 
quite  sure  I  shan't  be  in  the  way — I  think  I 
should  like  to  wait  till  Miss  Bailey  comes." 

"Oh,  you  won't  be  in  the  way,"  the  girl 
replied.  She  regarded  him  meditatively, 
with  narrowed  eyes.  "I  shouldn't  dust  this 
room  in  any  event — since  the  flowers  are 
here;  but  you  mustn't  come  out  into  the  big 
room — unless  you  want  to  get  choked  with 
blacks.  Would  you  like  a  morning  paper? 
I  can  send  a  boy  out  for  one." 
370 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

"Thank  you — you  are  very  good — no," 
Christian  answered.  ' '  There  are  some  books 
here — I  shall  amuse  myself." 

The  girl  turned  to  leave  him,  and  then  on 
second  thought  moved  over  to  the  window 
and  lifted  the  sash.  "There'll  be  no  objec 
tion  to  your  smoking  if  you  like,"  she 
informed  him.  Then  she  went  out,  closing 
the  door  behind  her. 

Christian  walked  to  the  window  in  turn, 
and  looked  down  over  the  flowers  to  the 
narrow  street  below.  It  was  full  of  young 
men  in  silk  hats,  toiling  up  the  granite 
ascent  like  black  ants.  He  reflected  that 
they  must  be  clerks  and  shopmen,  going  to 
their  daily  work  from  the  Temple  station  or 
the  Embankment.  The  suggestion  of  monot 
onous  bondage  which  their  swarming  prog 
ress  toward  the  wage-earning  center  gave 
forth,  interested  him.  He  yawned  pleasur- 
ably  at  the  thought  of  his  own  superb 
emancipation  from  duties  and  tasks  of  all 
descriptions. 

He  strolled  over  to  the  bookcase  above  the 
desk,  and  glanced  at  the  volumes  revealed 
through  its  glass  doors.  They  seemed  very 
serious  books,  indeed.  ' '  Economics  of  Social 
ism,"  "Capitalist  Production,"  "The  Ethics 

of   Socialism,"  "Towards    Democracy" so 

the  titles  ran  that  first  met  his  eye.     There 
371 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

were  other  groups — mainly  of  history  and 
the  essayists — but  everything  was  sub 
stantial.  His  glance  sought  in  vain  any  light 
some  gleam  of  poetry  or  fiction.  The  legend 
on  a  thin  red  book,  "Civilization:  Its  Cause 
and  Cure,"  whimsically  caught  his  attention. 
He  put  his  hand  to  the  key  in  the  bookcase 
door  to  get  out  the  volume ;  then,  hesitating, 
yawned,  and  looked  over  the  shelves  once 
more.  There  was  nothing  else — and  really 
he  desired  to  read  nothing. 

He  would  half  recline  in  comfort  upon  the 
sofa  instead,  until  his  friend  came.  As  a 
pleasing  adjunct  to  this  plan,  he  drew  the 
table  up  close,  and  found  room  upon  it,  by 
crowding  them  together,  for  most  of  the 
flowers  that  had  been  bestowed  elsewhere. 
He  seated  himself  at  his  ease,  with  his  head 
resting  against  the  wall,  and  surveyed  the 
plants  and  blossoms  in  affectionate  admira 
tion.  It  was  delicious  to  think  how  naive 
her  surprise  would  be — how  great  her 
pleasure !  Truly,  since  his  discovery  of  his 
birthright,  remarkable  and  varied  as  had 
been  his  experiences,  he  had  done  nothing 
else  which  afforded  him  a  tithe  of  the  satis 
faction  he  felt  now  glowing  in  all  his  veins. 
Here,  at  last,  by  some  curious  and  devious 
chance,  he  had  stumbled  upon  the  thing  that 
was  genuinely  worth  doing. 
372 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

He  could  hear  the  cheerful  girl  in  the  next 
room,  whistling  gently  to  herself  as  she 
moved  the  furniture  about.  There  came 
presently  the  sound  of  other  female  voices, 
and  then  a  sustained,  vibrant  rattle,  quaintly 
accentuated  like  the  ticking  of  a  telegraph 
key,  which  he  grew  accustomed  to,  and  even 
found  pleasant  to  the  ear. 

He  put  his  feet  up  on  the  edge  of  the  sofa 
— and  nestled  downward  till  his  head  was 
upon  it  as  well.  A  delicate  yet  pervasive 
fragrance  from  the  table  close  beside  him 
aroused  his  languid  curiosity.  Was  it  the 
perfume  of  carnations  or  of  roses? 

He  closed  his  eyes  the  better  to  decide. 


373 


CHAPTER    XVIII 

In  the  outer  room,  Miss  Connie  Staples 
permitted  herself  numerous  and  varied 
speculations  as  to  the  identity  and  purposes 
of  the  young  man  with  the  flowers,  the  while 
she  dusted  the  typewriters,  distributed  the 
copy  for  the  morning's  start  and  set  the 
place  in  order.  She  had  her  sleeves  rolled 
up,  and  had  wound  a  big  handkerchief  about 
her  hair;  beneath  this  turban  her  forehead 
scored  itself  in  lines  of  perplexed  wonder 
ment  as  to  this  curious  early  caller — but 
when  two  other  girls  arrived,  she  suffered 
them  to  put  aside  their  things  and  begin  work 
without  so  much  as  hinting  at  what  had 
happened.  A  third  girl,  coming  a  little 
later,  brought  in  a  stray  blossom  which  she 
had  picked  up  in  the  corridor  outside.  She 
mentioned  the  fact,  and  even  laid  stress 
upon  it,  but  got  no  syllable  of  explanation. 

This  was  all  simple  enough,  but  at  half -past 
nine  the  arrival  of  still  another  of  the  sex  put 
Miss  Connie's  resources  to  an  unexpected  test. 

A  handsome,  youngish  woman,  very  well 
dressed  indeed,  appeared  suddenly  upon  the 

375 


GLORIA  MUNDI 

threshold  of  the  workroom,  knocking  upon 
the  door  and  pushing  it  wide  open   at  the 
same  instant.     She  looked  curiously  about, 
and  then  point-blank  into  the  face  of  the  girl 
who  came  toward  her.     It  was  a  glance  of 
independent  and  impersonal  criticism  which 
the  two  exchanged,  covering    with  instan 
taneous  swiftness  an  infinitude  of  details  as 
to  dress,   coiffure,   complexion,  figure,  tem 
perament  and  origin.     Connie  wondered  if 
the  new-comer  was  really  quite  a  lady,  long 
before  she  formulated  an  inquiring  thought 
about  her  errand.     Even  as  she  finally  looked 
this  question  of  business,  she  decided  that  it 
was  an  actress  with  a  play  for  the  provinces, 
and  asked  herself  if   she  did  not  seem  to 
recognize   the   face.       The   visitor,    for  her 
part,    saw    that    Connie's    teeth    were    too 
uneven  to  be  false,  and  that  her  waist  was 
overlong,   and  that  her  hair   was  not  thick 
enough  to  be  worn  flat  over   the  temples, 
much  less  to  justify  so  confident  a  manner. 
In  all,  something  less  than  a  second  of  time 
had  elapsed. 

"I  want  to  see  Miss  Bailey— Miss  Frank 
Bailey,"  explained  the  stranger,  graciously. 
Connie  conveyed  to  her,  with  courteous 
brevity,  the  fact  that  Miss  Bailey  had  not 
yet  arrived.  "Is  it  something  that  I  can 
do?"  she  added. 

376 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

The  other  shook  her  head,  and  showed  an 
affable  thread  of  white  between  her  fresh- 
hued  lips.  "No,  I  will  wait  for  her,"  she 
answered,  and  threw  a  keen  glance  about 
the  place.  "That's  her  private  room,  isn't 
it?"  she  asked,  nodding  at  the  closed  door 
to  the  right.  "I  will  wait  in  there,"  she 
decided,  in  the  same  breath,  and  began 
moving  toward  it. 

Connie  alertly  headed  her  off.  "If  you 
will  kindly  take  a  seat  here — "  she  inter 
posed,  standing  in  front  of  her  visitor. 

"It's  too  noisy  out  here,"  remarked  the 
other;  "those  horrid  machines  would  give 
me  a  headache.  That  is  her  private  room, 
isn't  it?" 

"Unfortunately,"  Connie  began,  lowering 
her  voice,  "the  room  belongs  to  another 
office.  Or  rather,  I  should  say,  it  is  locked. 
Miss  Bailey  will  be  here — with  the  key — 
very  shortly  now. ' ' 

"Oh,  it's  all  right— I'm  her  sister," 
explained  the  other,  in  no  wise  resenting  the 
ineffectual  fabrications.  She  pushed  for 
ward  past  the  reluctant  girl  with  a  resolute 
step,  and  put  her  hand  on  the  knob  of  the 
tabooed  door.  "Make  your  mind  quite 
easy,  my  dear,"  she  remarked  over  her 
shoulder,  sinking  her  voice  in  turn  in  defer 
ence  to  the  situation;  "you've  done  all 
377 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

that  could  be  expected  of  you — and  I'll  tell 
her  so." 

Then,  with  a  momentary  gleam  of  good 
nature  on  her  pretty  face,  which  the  short 
transparent  veil  she  wore  to  her  chin  seemed 
to  accentuate  rather  than  mask,  she  opened 
the  door,  threw  up  her  head  with  a  swift, 
puzzled  glance  at  what  she  saw,  and  then 
tiptoed  gracefully  into  the  room,  closing  the 
door  with  painstaking  noiselessness  behind 
her. 

Miss  Frances  Bailey  entered  her  office  not 
many  minutes  later,  her  cheeks  aglow  with 
the  morning  air  as  the  wheelwoman  meets 
it.  She  nodded  cheerfully  to  Connie,  and 
beyond  her  to  the  girls  at  the  machines,  as 
her  hand  sought  for  a  hat-pin  at  the  back  of 
her  head. 

"Any  word  from  the  Lyceum?"  she  asked. 
"And  what  does  that  Zambesi-travel  manu 
script  make?" 

Connie  ignored  industrial  topics.  "There 
are  people  waiting  in  there  to  see  you, ' '  she 
announced,  in  low,  significant  tones. 

The  mistress  was  impressed  by  the  sug 
gestion  of  mystery.  "People?  What  peo 
ple?"  she  asked,  knitting  her  brows. 

"One  of  them  says  she's  your  sister.     And 
the  other  is  a  young  gentleman — he  came 
first — and  he  brought — " 
378 


GLORIA    MUNDI 

"My  sister?"  interrupted  Miss  Bailey. 
"Cora!  Something  dreadful  must  have 
happened — for  she  never  got  out  so  early  as 
this  before  in  her  life.  Is  she  in  mourning? 
Did  she  seem  upset?" 

"Not  a  bit  of  it!"  said  Connie,  reassur 
ingly.  She  added,  following  the  other 
toward  the  private  office:  "I  tried  my  best 
to  keep  her  out  here. ' ' 

"Why  should  you?"  asked  Frances,  with 
wide-open  eyes. 

"Oh,  well — you'll  see,"  replied  the  girl, 
evasively.  "I  told  you  there  was  some  one 
else  in  there. ' ' 

Frances  opened  the  door — and  Connie 
noted  that  she  too  lifted  her  head  and  stared 
a  little,  and  then  cautiously  closed  the  door 
behind  her.  She  pondered  this  as  she  returned 
to  her  machine,  and  she  curled  her  thin  lip 
when  she  took  up  the  copies  of  the  first  act 
of  an  amateur's  romantic  play,  to  under 
score  the  business  directions  with  red  ink, 
and  sew  on  brown  paper  covers.  Intuition 
told  her  that  a  much  better  drama  was  afoot, 
here  under  her  very  nose. 

Inside  her  office,  Miss  Bailey  surrendered 
herself  to  frank  astonishment  at  what  she 
beheld. 

Bestowed  in  obvious  discomfort  upon  her 
sofa,  behind  an  extraordinary  bank  of  potted 
37Q 


GLORIA   MUND1 

plants  and  bright,  costly  greenhouse  flowers, 
was  a  young  man  fast  asleep.  Her  eye 
took  in  as  well  her  sister,  who  sat  near  the 
head  of  the  sofa,  but  she  could  wait.  The 
interest  centered  in  this  sleeping  stranger, 
who  made  himself  so  much  at  home  in  the 
shelter  of  his  remarkable  floral  barricade. 
She  moved  round  the  better  to  scrutinize 
his  face,  which  was  tilted  up  as  if  proudly 
held  even  in  slumber.  Upon  examination 
she  recognized  the  countenance ;  and  in  a 
swift  moment  of  concentration  tried  to  think 
what  his  presence  might  signify.  Then  she 
turned  to  her  sister,  and  lifted  her  calm  brows 
in  mute  inquiry. 

"Oh,  my  dear — what  splendid  business!" 
whispered  Cora,  her  glance  beaming  upward 
from  the  sofa  to  the  standing  figure.  "And 
mind,  Frank,  I'm  in  it!  I'm  in  it  up  to 
my  neck !  I  sent  him  to  you,  dear. ' ' 

The  girl  looked  down  at  them  both,  and 
deliberated  before  she  spoke.  "If  you 
brought  him  here,"  she  said,  "I  think  you'd 
better  take  him  away  again.  I  can  let  you 
out  by  this  other  door.  Let  us  have  no 
more  publicity  than  necessary." 

"But  you  don't  in  the  least  understand!" 
protested  Cora,  with  her  finger  raised  in  an 
appeal  for  quiet  tones. 

"No,  I  don't  understand.  I  don't  want 
380 


GLORIA    MUNDI 

to  understand,"  replied  Frances  coldly. 
4 'There's  one  thing  you  don't  understand 
either,  Cora :  This  is  my  typewriting  office ; 
it  isn't  a  greenroom  at  all." 

"Then  it  well  might  be,"  retorted  the 
other,  with  a  latent  grin.  "Anything 
greener  than  its  owner  I  never  saw.  Now 
listen — don't  be  a  silly  cuckoo!  I  met  the 
youngster  last  night — and  I  worked  him  up 
till  he  was  mad  to  learn  where  you  were  to 
be  found.  I  told  him — and  then  I  went 
home,  and  I  couldn't  sleep  for  thinkin'  of 
you,  dear — and  so  I  turned  out  at  some 
extraordinary  hour  this  mornin' — it  is 
mornin'  by  this  time,  isn't  it? — and  I  came 
here,  just  to  tell  you  that  he  was  askin' 
after  you — and  I  come  in  here — and  lo! 
here's  the  bird  on  his  little  nest! — and  see 
the  flowers  he's  brought  from  Covent  Garden 
for  you ! — and  so  I  sit  here  like  Patience  on 
a  monument,  afraid  to  wink  an  eyelash,  so's 
not  to  wake  him  till  you  come.  That's  what 
I've  done  for  you,  dear — and  presently,  if 
you  don't  mind,  I'd  like  to  hear  what  you'll 
do  for  me. ' ' 

Frances  put  a  knee  upon  the  chair  before 
her,  and  rested  with  her  hands  upon  its  back. 
She  sighed  a  little,  and  bit  her  lips.  A 
troubled  look  came  into  her  gray  eyes. 

"You  might  as  well  say  all  you  have  to 
381 


GLORIA   MUND1 

say,"  she  said,  slowly.  "I  don't  in  the  least 
see  what  you're  up  to — but  then  I  never 
did." 

"No,  dear,  you  never  did,"  responded 
Cora,  smiling  as  if  in  pleased  retrospect. 
"But  that's  no  reason  why  I  shouldn't  be  a 
good  sister  to  you.  If  it's  one's  nature  to 
be  a  good  sister,  why,  then  one  will  be — and 
there  you  are,  don't  you  see?  I  take  no 
credit  to  myself  for  it. " 

"  Go  on, "  said  the  other.  The  two  women 
spoke  in  hushed  whispers,  and  with  each 
sentence  stole  glances  of  precaution  toward 
the  sleeper. 

"Well,  Frank,  I  look  to  you  not  to  forget 
what  I've  done.  I  spent  two  or  three  very 
hard  hours  last  night  talkin'  him  round,  and 
singin'  your  praises  to  him — and  I  put 
Covent  Garden  into  his  head,  too — and  here 
he  is!  And  I  kept  Eddy  and  Gus  off  his 
back,  too — they  were  frightfully  keen  to  get 
at  him — but  I  said  no,  and  I  held  'em  to 
heel.  It  was  all  for  you,  dear.  They  might 
have  queered  the  whole  pitch,  if  I'd  given 
'em  their  heads.  But  now  about  myself. 
I'm  tired,  dead  tired,  of  bein'  poor.  Of 
course  we  get  a  little  something  from  Lord 
Julius.  But  Eddy — you  know  what  Eddy  is ! 
No  sooner  does  he  pick  himself  up  from 
Epsom  than  Ascot  gives  him  a  fair  knock- 
382 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

out,  and  if  he  lives  through  the  Sandown 
Eclipse  there's  Goodwood  waitin'  for  him 
with  a  facer.  I  can't  understand  it;  other 
men  seem  to  win  sometimes — you'd  think 
the  unluckiest  duffer  would  get  a  look-in 
once  in  a  while — but  no,  he  just  gets 
hammered  one  meeting  after  another.  And 
I'm  tired  of  it,  Frank!  If  I  could  only  go 
back  to  work !  But  if  I  get  an  engagement, 
then  Eddy  will  go  playin'  the  goat — he's 
jealous  of  everybody  about  the  place  from 
the  bandmaster  down  to  the  carpenter's  boy 
— and  that  makes  me  unpopular — and  there 
we  are,  don't  you  see!  I'm  worn  out  with 
it.  But  if  I  could  have  eight  hundred  a 
year,  or  even  six  hundred  or  five  at  a  pinch — 
God  knows,  my  wants  are  simple  enough ! — 
and  have  it  paid  to  me  personally,  do  you  see 
— why,  then,  life  would  be  worth  livin'. 
Now,  what  do  you  say?" 

Frances  looked  moodily  down  at  her  dis 
tinguished  sister,  her  lips  twisted  in  stormy 
amusement.  "Why  not  say  a  thousand  and 
be  done  with  it?"  she  demanded  between  set 
teeth,  after  an  ominous  pause.  "One  would 
be  as  intelligent  as  the  other.  And  oughtn't 
I  to  set  your  Eddy  up  with  a  racing  stud  while 
I'm  about  it?  It's  true  that  I  have  about 
twenty  pounds  a  year  for  my  own  personal 
use,  and  Tom  has  a  standing  grievance  that 
383 


GLORIA   MUND1 

I  don't  give  even  that  to  him — but  don't  let 
that  interfere  with  your  plans.  Whatever 
you  feel  that  you  would  like,  just  give  it  a 
name.  Couldn't  I  lease  one  of  the  new 
Kaffir  mansions  in  Park  Lane  for  you?  Or 
would  you  prefer  something  in  Grosvenor 
Square?" 

Cora  gazed  up  with  such  intentness  at  her 
unnatural  sister  that  a  bright  little  tear 
came  to  shine  at  the  corner  of  each  eye. 
She  put  up  her  veil  then,  and  breathed  a 
cautious  sigh.  "I  didn't  expect  this  of  you, 
dear,"  she  said,  submissively.  "Of  course 
it's  the  old  story — La  Cigale,  and  'go-to- the 
ant-thou-sluggard'  and  all  that.  I  don't 
see  myself  why  a  typewriting  machine  should 
make  one  so  fearfully  stony-hearted;  you 
get  callouses  on  your  fingers,  I  know,  but 
you  needn't  get  'em  on  your  sisterly  affec 
tions,  one  would  think.  But  however" — 
she  wiped  her  eyes,  drew  down  her  veil  and 
allowed  a  truculent  note  to  sound  in  her 
voice — "however,  if  you  won't  play,  why 
then  neither  will  I.  I've  been  at  pains  to  put 
this  youngster  in  your  way,  but  it  won't  be 
much  trouble  to  shunt  him  out  again.  You 
mustn't  think  you  can  walk  on  me  indefi 
nitely,  Frank.  I'm  the  best-natured  woman 
in  the  world,  but  even  I  draw  the  line  some 
where.  " 

384 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

"Draw  it  now  then,"  said  the  other,  with 
stern  promptitude.  "Go  away,  and  take 
your  friend  with  you  and  let  me  get  to  my 
work.  I  don't  know  what  business  either  of 
you  had  coming-  here,  at  all. ' '  As  she  spoke, 
she  moved  to  the  outer  private  door,  and 
turned  the  key  in  the  lock.  "You  can  send 
for  the  flowers,"  she  added,  "or  I  will  have 
them  taken  over  to  Charing  Cross  Hospital — 
whichever  you  like. ' ' 

Cora  rose,  her  veiled  face  luminous  with  a 
sudden  inspiration.  "You  can't  quarrel  with 
me,  dear,  no  matter  how  hard  you  try." 
She  spoke  in  low,  cooing  tones — a  triumph 
of  sympathetic  voice  production.  "You're 
hard  as  nails,  but  I  know  you're  straight. 
I  will  trust  my  interests  absolutely  in  your 
hands.  I  leave  it  to  you  to  do  the  fair 
thing  by  me. ' ' 

"The  fair  thing?"  echoed  Frances,  in 
dubious  perplexity.  She  puzzled  over  the 
words  and  their  elusive  implication.  "Your 
interests?"  she  repeated — and  saw  Cora 
move  round  her  to  the  unlocked  door,  and 
open  it — and  still  sought  to  comprehend 
what  it  was  all  about.  Only  when  her  sister, 
smiling  cordially  once  more,  bent  forward 
without  warning  and  pressed  her  veiled  lipi 
against  her  chin,  and  with  a  gentle  "Good 
bye,  dear!"  stepped  into  the  shadows  with- 
385 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

out,  did  she  recall  the  other  features  of  the 
situation. 

"Here!"  she  called,  with  nervous  eager 
ness,  yet  keeping  her  voice  down,  "you're 
not  to  run  off  like  this.  Take  your  man  with 
you." 

"Softly,  dear!"  Cora  enjoined  her,  from 
the  dusk  of  the  hallway.  "Your  young 
women  wouldn't  understand.  No — I  caught 
him  for  you,  and  I  leave  him  in  your  hands. 
I'm  not  in  the  least  afraid  to  trust  it  all  to 
you.  Bye-bye,  dear." 

Frances  went  out  and  glared  down  the 
staircase,  with  angry  expostulation  on  her 
tongue's  end.  But  there  was  nobody  to  talk 
to.  She  could  hear  only  the  brisk  rustle  of 
Cora's  skirts  on  the  stone  steps,  a  floor 
below — and  even  that  died  away  beneath  the 
clatter  of  the  machines  inside. 

Returning  over  the  threshold,  she  paused, 
and  looked  impatiently  at  the  flowers,  and 
at  the  impassive,  slumbering  face  beyond 
them.  After  a  little,  the  lines  of  vexation 
began  to  melt  from  her  brow.  In  a  musing 
way,  she  put  a  hand  behind  her,  and  as  if 
unconsciously  closed  and  locked  the  hall 
door  again.  Then  she  moved  to  the  table, 
picked  up  some  of  the  loose  blossoms  and 
breathed  in  their  fragrance,  still  keeping  her 
thoughtful  gaze  upon  the  young  man.  She 
386 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

found  the  face  much  older  and  stronger  than 
she  remembered  it — and  in  a  spirit  of  fair 
ness  she  said  to  herself  that  it  seemed  no 
whit  less  innocent.  But  then  perhaps  all 
sleeping  faces  looked  innocent;  she  could 
recall  that  Cora's  certainly  did.  Holding 
the  carnations  to  her  lips  and  nostrils, 
she  examined  in  meditative  detail  the 
countenance  before  her — delicately  modeled, 
dark,  nervously  high-spirited  even  in  repose. 
Associations  came  back  as  she  gazed — the 
tender  eagerness  of  the  lad,  the  wistful 
charm  with  which  his  fancy  had  invested 
England,  the  frank  sweetness  of  the  tem 
perament  he  had  disclosed  to  her.  He  had 
been  like  a  flower  himself  on  that  mellow 
autumn  day — as  fresh  and  as  goodly  to  the 
eye  as  these  roses  on  the  table.  But  a 
winter  had  intervened  since  then — and  what 
gross  disillusionments,  what  roughening 
and  hardening  and  corroding  experiences 
had  he  not  encountered !  You  could  not  tell 
anything  by  a  face  in  sleep;  again  she 
assured  herself  of  that. 

Why,  when  one  came  to  think  of  it,  it  was 
enough  that  Cora  had  brought  him — or  sent 
him,  it  mattered  not  which.  Whence  had 
she  dispatched  him? — from  some  theatrical 
dance  or  late  supper.  It  was  true  that  he 
was  not  in  evening  dress — and  the  thought 
387 


GLORIA  MUNDI 

gave  her  pause  for  a  moment.  But  he  had 
been  at  some  place  where  those  wretched 
cousins  of  his  were  present — for  Cora  had 
spoken  of  keeping  both  Eddy  and  Gus  "off 
his  back" — whatever  that  might  mean. 
And  it  was  Cora  herself  who  had  told  him 
to  go  to  Covent  Garden  and  buy  these 
flowers ! 

Frances,  revolving  these  unpleasant  reflec 
tions,  discovered  all  at  once  that  the  young 
man,  without  betraying  by  any  other  motion 
his  awakening,  had  opened  his  eyes  and  was 
looking  placidly  across  the  flowers  into  her 
face. 

She  caught  a  quick  breath,  and  frowned 
slightly  at  him. 


388 


CHAPTER   XIX 

"I  don't  think  I  like  your  being  here," 
Frances  remarked  to  the  young  man  after  a 
brief  frowning  inspection.  She  spoke  slowly, 
and  with  a  deliberate  gravity  and  evenness 
of  tone. 

Christian's  wide-open  eyes  continued  to 
gaze  up  at  her  with  that  disconcerting  look 
which  had  in  it  both  remote  abstraction  and 
something  very  intimately  personal.  His 
glance  expressed  a  tender  pleasure  as  it 
maintained  itself  against  hers. 

"Oh,  but  I  like  it  so  very  much!"  he 
murmured,  with  a  pleading  smile. 

Then,  by  a  sudden  movement,  he  sat  up, 
flushing  in  a  novel  embarrassment.  "I  beg 
you  to  pardon  me,"  he  urged,  faltering  over 
his  words.  "I  was  not  wholly  awake,  I 
think;  or  I  was  trying  to  persuade  myself 
that  it  was  still  a  dream.  Do  not  think  me 
so  rude,  I  pray  you!" 

She  signified  by  a  gesture  and  momentary 
facial  relaxation  that  this  particular  detail  of 
the  situation  need  not  detain  them. 

"But" — she  began,  in  her  stiffest  and  least 
389 


GLORIA    MUNDI 

amiable  voice,  and  then  hesitated.  She  put 
her  knee  again  upon  the  chair,  and,  resting 
her  hand  on  its  back,  looked  dubiously  at 
him.  "I  hardly  know  what  to  say,"  she 
started  once  more,  and  stopped  altogether. 

"Oh,  but  it  is  I  who  must  say  everything, ' ' 
he  broke  in,  eagerly.  "I  am  quite  awake 
now — I  see,  of  course,  it  is  all  absurd,  mean 
ingless  in  your  eyes,  till  I  explain  it  to  you." 
He  rose  to  his  feet  and  put  forth  his  hand 
as  if  to  offer  it  in  greeting.  No  responsive 
token  being  visible  on  her  set  face,  or  in 
her  rigid  posture,  as  she  confronted  him,  he 
waved  both  hands  in  a  deprecatory  move 
ment  over  the  table  laden  with  flowers 
between  them.  "These  are  my  peace-offer 
ing,"  he  said,  with  less  confidence.  "I 
hoped  they  would  say  some  things  for  me— 
some  things  which  I  feel  within  me,  and  can 
not  easily  put  into  speech.  That  is  what  I 
expected  they  would  surely  do.  But" — he 
finished  with  dejection,  after  another  glance 
into  her  face — "evidently  they  are  as  tongue- 
tied  as  I  am.  I  see  it  was  not  a  happy 
thought  in  me  to  bring  them— or  to  come 
myself!" 

She   had   followed  his    words    with   rapt 

attentiveness — but  at    the    end    seemed    to 

remember     only     one      of     them.      "The 

'thought,'  "  she  said,  coldly.     "Yes,  that  is 

390 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

what  I  do  not  understand.     What  was  the 
thought?" 

He  regarded  her  with  some  perplexity. 
44 What  was  the  thought — my  thought?"  he 
repeated.  "Oh — since  it  does  not  explain 
itself,  what  good  is  there  in  talking  about  it? 
Let  us  say  that  there  was  no  'thought'  at 
all.  I  will  make  my  compliments  and 
apologies  —  and  say  good-morning  —  and 
nothing  at  all  will  have  happened." 

"No,"  she  answered  reflectively.  "That 
would  be  stupid.  You  have  been  to  expense, 
and  evidently  to  some  inconvenience  as  well, 
to  do  this  thing.  On  second  thoughts,"  she 
went  on,  with  an  apparent  effort  to  modify 
the  asperities  of  her  tone  and  manner,  "I 
dare  say  that  I  haven't  behaved  quite  nicely 
to  you.  If  you  remember,  I  told  you  a  long 
time  ago  that  bad  manners  was  a  failing  of 
mine." 

"I  remember  every  little  word  that  you 
spoke,"  said  Christian  softly. 

Frances  hardened  her  voice  on  the  instant. 
"But  that  doesn't  help  me  to  understand 
why — what  this  is  all  about. ' ' 

He  responded  slowly,  searching  for  his 
words  as  he  went  along.  The  rattle  of 
machines  in  the  next  room  for  the  first  time 
came  into  the  conversation,  and  forced  him 
to  lift  his  voice.  "You  were  my  last  friend 
391 


GLORIA    MUNDI 

in  France — my  first  friend  in  England, ' '  he 
began.  "I  said  I  would  not  forget  you,  and 
you  have  been  always  in  my  mind — always 
somewhere  secure  and  fresh  and  sweet  in  my 
mind.  It  was  only  last  night  that  I  learned 
where  I  might  find  you.  You  will  remember 
that  when  I  begged  you  to  tell  me,  you 
laughed  and  would  not.  I  must  not  make 
you  believe  that  I  did  not  very  soon  find  out 
your  name  or  that  I  could  not  have  learned 
your  whereabouts  much  earlier.  All  I  say 
is  that  I  did  not  forget — and  that  last  night, 
when  the  chance  came  naturally  to  me,  I 
asked  and  learned  what  I  desired  to  know. 
And  then  —  why,  then  —  this  knowledge 
spread  upward  to  be  of  more  importance  than 
all  the  other  things  I  knew.  I  went  home — 
but  never  to  think  of  sleeping,  but  only  to 
change  my  clothes  and  hasten  out  again,  to 
get  some  new  morning  flowers  for  you,  and 
to  come  to  you  at  the  earliest  moment.  I 
did  not  know  that  London  rose  so  late — I 
arrived  before  the  time,  and,  so  it  seems, 
waiting  for  your  coming,  I  fell  asleep.  That 
is  the  entire  story.  You  see  it  is  not  very 
complicated — it  is  by  no  means  extraordin 
ary.  ' ' 

Frances    had    listened     with     a     dreamy 
gentleness  in  her   gray   eyes.     She   started 
slightly  when  he  stopped,  and  gave  him  a 
392 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

keen,  cool  glance.  "The  entire  story?"  she 
queried.  "I  think  you  have  forgotten  to 
mention  that  it  was  my  sister  who  told  you 
about  me,  and  gave  you  my  address." 

Her  prescience  in  no  wise  astonished 
Christian.  Imagination  had  thrown  round 
the  Minerva-like  figure  which  personified 
her  in  his  thoughts,  such  a  glamour  of  intel 
lectual  radiancy,  that  it  seemed  quite  a 
natural  thing  for  her  to  divine  the  obscure, 
and  comprehend  the  mysterious.  He  smiled 
at  her  as  he  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "It  did 
not  occur  to  me  as  important, ' '  he  exclaimed. 
"It  is  true,  however,  that  she  told  me.  She 
did  not  know  the  address  when  I  asked 
her,  but  later  she  procured  it  for  me  from 
her  brother.  It  was  at  a  supper  at  the  Han 
over  Theater.  Afterward  there  was  dancing 
on  the  stage.  I  fear  it  would  have  been 
rather  tiresome  for  me  if  I  had  not  met  your 
sister.  She  is  a  very  friendly  lady,  and  she 
talked  a  great  deal  to  me." 

"About  me?"  demanded  Frances,  sharply. 

"Oh,  no — about  you  only  a  few  pleasant 
words;  not  more.  It  seems  you  do  not  meet 
very  often. ' ' 

He  spoke  with  such  evident  frankness  that 

she  hesitated  over  the   further  inquiry  her 

mind    had  framed.     At   last  she  put  it  in 

altered  form.      "Then  you    would  not  say 

393 


GLORIA   MUND1 

that  she  sent  you  here — that  she  told  you  to 
come — and  to  come  •  by  way  of  Covent 
Garden,  and  buy  these  flowers?"  The  ques 
tion,  as  she  uttered  it,  was  full  of  significant 
suggestion  about  the  nature  of  the  reply 
desired.  Its  tone,  too,  carried  the  welcome 
hint  of  a  softened  mood,  under  the  influence 
of  which  Christian's  face  brightened  with 
joy. 

"Why,  not  at  all!"  he  cried,  lifting  his 
voice  gaily  above  the  typewriters'  clatter. 
"She  did  speak  of  Covent  Garden,  and  the 
show  of  flowers  there  in  the  early  morning, 
but  it  was  not  in  the  least  with  reference  to 
you.  It  was  my  own  idea  long  after  she  had 
gone.  Oh,  no  one  would  be  more  surprised 
than  that  good  sister  of  yours  to  know  that 
I  am  here!" 

Frances,  with  a  puzzling  smile  which  ended 
in  a  long  breath  of  relief,  took  up  some 
of  the  roses  and  held  them  to  her  face. 

"Sit  down  again,"  she  bade  him,  with  a 
pleasant  glow  in  the  eyes  regarding  him  over 
the  blossoms;  "sit  down,  and  let  us  talk. 
Or  does  that  noise  bore  you?" 

"Oh,  I  am  too  glad!"  he  assured  her, 
beamingly.  "If  it  were  cannon  firing  in  the 
next  room,  it  would  be  nothing  to  me." 
Then,  as  he  continued  to  gaze  with  delight 
at  her,  an  inspiration  came  to  him.  "Or  is 
394 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

it  possible  for  you  to  come  out?  Would  you 
walk  a  little  while,  perhaps  on  the  Embank 
ment?" 

' '  I  am  not  particularly  busy  this  morning, ' ' 
she  made  indirect  answer.  Then  a  digres 
sion  occurred  to  her.  "But  I  am  rather  sur 
prised,"  she  observed,  "to  find  that  Eng 
land  hasn't  made  more  changes  in  your 
speech.  I  would  have  expected  a  perfect 
Piccadilly  accent,  but  you  talk  exactly  as  you 
did  on  the  train  and  the  boat. ' ' 

He  laughed  and  clapped  his  hands  for 
glee.  "It  is  wholly  because  I  am  with  you 
again,"  he  declared.  "Everybody  has  said 
for  months  that  the  foreign  traces  had  quite 
vanished  from  my  tongue — but  the  first 
glimpse  of  you — ah!  they  come  instantly 
back!  It  is  the  association  of  ideas,  beyond 
doubt — that  very  sweet  association,"  he 
added,  with  trembling  softness,  "of  oh! 
such  fond  ideas." 

She  had  taken  up  her  hat.  "We  will  go 
out  for  a  little,  if  you  like, ' '  she  remarked 
rather  abruptly. 

"And  I  am  altogether  forgiven?"  he 
demanded  in  high  spirits,  as  he  rose.  "You 
consent  to  accept  the  flowers?" 

"Heaven  only  knows  what  I  shall  do  with 
them,"  she  answered,  with  a  grimace  of 
mock  despair.  "But  it  was  ever  so  nice  of 
395 


GLORIA  MUNDI 

you  to  get  them,  and  I  thank  you  very  much. 
Oh,  I  must  tell  Connie  to  sprinkle  them 
before  I  go." 

She  moved  to  the  inner  door,  and  as  she 
opened  it  turned.  "Wouldn't  you  like  to 
come  and  see  the  factory  at  work?"  she 
inquired,  and  he  joined  her  with  alacrity. 
"It  isn't  much  to  see  at  the  moment,"  she 
explained,  as  they  entered  the  large  room. 
"We  have  nine  machines,  but  only  four  of 
them  are  needed  just  now.  Until  after  the 
Jubilee,  I'm  afraid  things  will  be  very  dull 
with  publishers  and  playwrights.  However, 
one  must  take  the  lean  with  the  fat. " 

Christian  looked  somewhat  nervously  about 
him,  while  his  friend  stepped  aside  to  confer 
with  the  girl  whom  he  remembered  from 
the  early  morning.  Both  this  young  lady 
and  the  three  at  their  machines  made  a  rapid, 
and  as  it  seemed  to  him,  perfunctory  survey 
of  their  mistress's  guest,  and  bent  their 
attention  upon  their  duties  again  as  if  his 
presence  signified  nothing  whatever  to  them. 
He  suspected  that  in  reality  they  were 
plunged  in  furious  speculation  concerning 
him;  and  this  embarrassed  him  so  much 
that  he  turned  and  strolled  back  toward  the 
open  door  and  even  entered  the  office  before 
Frances  rejoined  him. 

When  she  came  back  to  him,  she  took  from 
396 


GLORIA    MUNDI 

the  table  a  couple  of  pale,  half-opened  tea- 
rose  buds,  gave  one  to  him  to  fix  in  his 
lapel  and  pinned  the  other  to  the  breast  of 
her  fawn-gray  frock.  "If  you  are  ready," 
she  said,  smilingly,  and  led  the  way  to  the 
staircase.  As  she  descended  before  him,  he 
noted  the  intelligent  simplicity  of-  this  dress 
she  wore — how  it  fitted  her  as  gracefully 
and  as  artistically  as  Poole  ever  fitted  Dicky 
Westland.  About  her  hat,  the  carriage  of 
her  head  and  shoulders,  the  free  decision  of 
her  step,  there  was  something  individual 
which  appealed  directly  to  him — a  charm 
which  would  not  be  duplicated  by  any  other 
person  in  the  world.  He  looked  at  his  watch 
as  he  went  down,  and  found  with  surprise 
that  it  was  nearly  eleven. 

He  stepped  to  her  side  at  the  street  door 
way,  with  a  meaning  gesture.  "Do  you 
remember,"  he  said,  gently — "on  the  boat 
you  took  my  arm?" 

"I  think  London  is  a  little  different,"  she 
answered,  decisively  enough,  yet  with  the 
effect  to  his  ears  of  unreserved  camaraderie. 

They  walked  slowly  down  to  the  end  of 
the  street.  "Do  you  mind  which  way  we 
go?"  she  asked  him,  and  turned  eastward. 
"I  haven't  seen  the  city  in  an  age,"  she 
remarked,  as  if  the  choice  needed  explana 
tion.  Sauntering  along,  they  found  little  to 
397 


GLORIA    MUNDI 

say  to  each  other  at  the  outset.  What  words 
they  exchanged  were  about  the  mild,  sunless 
sky  of  the  London  April,  and  the  wonderful 
pencilings  and  rubbings  of  soot  upon  the 
silver-gra)r  of  London's  stone  walls.  Learn 
ing  that  he  was  a  stranger  to  the  Temple, 
she  led  the*  way  through  the  gate  and  lane, 
and  then,  by  turnings  which  it  surprised 
him  to  find  her  knowing  so  well,  to  the 
curious  little  church.  The  door  in  the 
sunken  porch  was  ajar,  and  they  went  in. 
She  pointed  to  the  circle  of  freestone 
Crusaders  looking  complacently  up  from  the 
floor  at  the  Oriental  dome  which  had  caught 
their  traveled  fancy  ages  before,  and  it 
occurred  to  her  to  say:  "Is  it  not  interesting 
to  you  to  think  that  there  were  Torrs  who 
were  friends  and  companions  of  these  very 
Magnavilles  and  Mareschalls,  six  hundred 
years  ago?" 

He  thrust  out  his  lips  a  little.  "I  have 
not  much  interest  in  anything  concerning 
the  Torrs,"  he  answered. 

She  looked  up  at  him  with  curiosity,  but 
offered  no  comment.  They  left  the  church, 
and  she  led  him  round  to  the  spot  where, 
amid  the  cracked  old  flags  from  forgotten 
graves,  Oliver  Goldsmith's  tomb  now  finds 
itself.  A  crumbling  wreath  of  natural 
flowers  showed  that  some  kindly  soul  had 
398 


GLORIA    MUNDI 

remembered  the  date  of   the  poet's  death, 
three  weeks  before. 

Christian  displayed  scarcely  more  interest 
here.  "I  have  not  read  his  'Vicar  of  Wake- 
field,'  "  he  confessed  to  her.  "I  had  always 
the  intention  to  do  so,  but  it — it  never  came 
off." 

"That  brings  me  to  one  thing  I  wanted  to 
s.sk  you,"  she  said,  as  they  retraced  their 
steps.  "What  books  have  you  been  read 
ing — since  you  came  to  England?  I  am 
anxious  to  know?" 

"Not  many,"  he  admitted  with  an 
attempted  laugh  which  ended  rather  shame 
facedly.  "Reading  did  not  fit  itself  very 
readily  into  my  time.  At  Lord  Chobham's 
I  read  in  some  old  books,  and  at  Emanuel's 
too,  but  it  was  all  about  our  own  people — 
the  Barons'  War,  and  the  Wars  of  the  Roses, 
and  the  Civil  War.  I  know  something  about 
these  and  about  the  old  families  of  the  West, 
but  not  much  else.  I  should  have  read  more, 
I  know,  but  there  was  really  not  much 
opportunity.  But  you — I  saw  at  your  office 
what  serious  books  you  read.  It  is  what  I 
should  like  to  do,  too — sometimes.  But 
there  has  been  no  one  to  talk  with  about  any 
kind  of  books." 

They  had  come  out  again  to  the  Embank 
ment,  and  made  their  pace  now  even  more 
399 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

deliberate.  "I  have  been  thinking  a  great 
deal  about  you,  and  your  future,  since  we 
met,"  she  remarked,  after  a  pause.  "It  has 
made  me  wonder  what  you  would  do,  when 
the  opportunity  came  to  you — and  what  it 
would  be  open  for  you  to  do.  That  is  why 
I  began  reading  the  books  that  I  take  it  you 
have  in  mind — but  afterward  I  read  them 
for  their  own  value.  At  the  beginning" — 
she  went  on  slowly,  studying  the  sky-line  in 
an  abstracted  way  as  she  walked — "at  the 
beginning  I  thought  I  should  see  you  again 
sometime,  and  I  had  the  idea  that  I  wanted 
to  be  able  to  advise — or  no,  not  that,  but  to 
talk  to  you,  and  try  to  interest  you  in  the 
right  sort  of  things.  But  it  did  not  take  me 
long  to  see  how  foolish  that  was." 

"No,  no!"  urged  Christian ;  without,  how 
ever,  any  convincing  display  of  enthusiasm. 
"There  is  no  one  in  the  world  from  whom  I 
will  so  gladly  take  advice  as  you." 

She  smiled  fleetingly  at  him.  "And 
there  is  no  one  in  the  world,"  she  replied, 
"more  firmly  resolved  not  to  offer  you 
any." 

"Ah,  but  if  I  beg  it!  You  may  not  offer 
— but  will  you  refuse  to  give?" 

"What  is  the  good?"  she  broke  forth  in  a 
louder  tone,  speaking  as  if  in  annoyed 
reproof  to  herself.  "No  person  can  think 
400 


GLORIA    MUNDI 

or  feel  or  decide  for  another !  It  is  nonsense 
to  pretend  otherwise.  A  man  must  think 
his  own  thoughts,  follow  his  own  nature! 
We  can  ask  nothing  finer  of  a  man  than  to 
honestly  be  himself.  I  get  so  angry  at  all 
these  ceaseless  attempts  to  run  people  all 
into  one  mold,  to  make  everybody  like 
everybody  else — and  then,  here  I  was, 
solemnly  starting  out  to  do  the  very  trick 
myself!"  She  laughed  in  ironical  self- 
depreciation  at  the  thought 

Christian  drew  closer  to  her  side.  "I  have 
very  many  things  to  say  to  you,"  he  began 
gravely.  "But  I  am  in  one  way  sorry  that 
we  went  into  the  churchyard,  because  it  has 
made  us  melancholy,  and  I  was  going  to  tell 
it  all  to  you  in  the  highest  good  spirits.  We 
were  both  laughing  like  merry  children 
when  we  left  your  place — and  now  we  are 
sad.  I  like  Emanuel's  idea — he  will  have 
no  tombs  to  be  seen  upon  his  estate.  Death 
will  come  there  as  elsewhere,  without  doubt, 
but  he  will  not  be  allowed  to  remain  hang 
ing  about,  thrusting  his  ugly  presence  upon 
happy  people  each  time  they  walk  in  the 
street.  At  Emanuel's  there  is  cremation — 
and  that  is  the  end  of  it.  That  is  the  portion 
of  his  System  which  pleases  me  most.  It  is 
the  best  thing  in  it." 

She  looked  into  his  face.  "Then  you  are 
401 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

not  wildly  in  love  with  his  whole  System?" 
she  asked. 

"Me?  I  grieve  to  say  not.  It  is  no  doubt 
very  admirable  indeed — but — how  shall  I 
say? — it  does  not  appeal  to  me.  You  are 
displeased  with  me  for  confessing  it — but — ' ' 

"Displeased?"  she  interrupted  him,  with 
a  meaning  laugh.  ' '  Nothing  could  displease 
me  less!" 

"Oh,  you  do  not  love  the  System?"  he 
cried,  with  dancing  eyes. 

"I  hate  it!"  she  answered,  briefly. 

"Capital!"  He  halted,  to  shake  her  by 
the  hand  with  gay  effusion.  "Let  us  abuse 
it  together !  You  shall  say  it  all,  however, 
because  I  only  dislike  it,  and  cannot  give  any 
reasons  why— but  you  will  know  them  every 
one.  Oh,  this  is  splendid!  I  had  the  right 
instinct  when  I  came  to  you !  I  have  a  great 
deal  to  tell  you — but  first  you  must  tell  me : 
what  do  you  say  about  my  cousin's  System? 
I  am  burning  to  hear  that. ' ' 

It  was  impossible  to  evade  the  contagion 
of  his  sparkling  face.  She  laughed  in  turn. 

4 '  Oh,  it  would  be  too  long  a  story, ' '  she  half 
protested.  "But  to  put  it  briefly,  this  is  my 
idea.  Emanuel  seems  to  me  to  be  a  magnifi 
cent  character,  with  one  extraordinary  limita 
tion.  I  think  it  must  be  a  Jewish  limitation 
— for  I  have  seen  it  pointed  out  that  they  do 
402 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

not  invent  things.  That  is  Emanuel's  flaw; 
he  has  not  an  original  thought  in  his  head. 
He  merely  carries  to  a  mathematical  point  of 
expansion  and  development  the  ready-made 
ideas  which  he  finds  accepted  all  about  him. 
What  you  see  in  him  is  a  triumph  of  the 
Semitic  passion  for  working  a  problem 
out  to  its  ultimate  conclusion.  When 
you  consider  it,  what  has  he  done?  Merely 
discovered,  by  tremendous  labor  and 
energy,  the  smoothest  possible  working 
arrangement  of  the  social  system  which 
his  class  regards  as  best  for  itself,  and 
hence  for  all  mankind — the  system  which 
exalts  a  chosen  few,  and  keeps  all  the  rest 
in  subjection.  My  dear  sir,  things  do  not 
rise  higher  than  their  source !  How  did  the 
Torrs  come  by  their  estates?  By  stealing 
the  birthright  of  thousands  of  dumb  human 
beasts  of  burden,  and  riveting  the  family 
collar  round  their  necks  with  no  more  regard 
for  their  wishes  or  their  rights  than  as  if 
they  had  been  so  many  puppies  or  colts. 
And  what  was  the  origin  of  the  Ascarel 
fortune?  The  most  frightful  and  blood 
stained  human  slavery  in  the  poisonous 
jungles  of  the  Dutch  East  Indies — that,  and 
an  ancient  family  business  of  international 
usury,  every  dirty  penny  in  which  if  you 
followed  it  far  enough,  meant  the  flaying- 
403 


GLORIA    MUNDI 

alive  of  a  peasant,  or  the  starvation  of  his 
little  children.  These  are  the  things  which 
your  cousin  inherits.  He  is  fine  enough  to 
be  ashamed  of  them,  but  he  is  not  broad 
enough  to  repudiate  them.  He  makes  him 
self  believe  that  they  were  wrong  only  in 
degree.  He  will  admit  that  the  Torrs  were 
too  brutal  toward  their  serfs,  the  Ascarels 
too  selfish  with  their  millions.  That  is  all. 
And  he  sets  himself  to  proving  that  with  the 
right  kind  of  chief  at  their  head  these  sys 
tems  of  theirs  can  be  made  not  only  respect 
able,  but  even  profitable  to  the  slaves  as  well 
as  the  master.  He  does  not  see  that  the 
systems  themselves  are  crimes!" 

"Yes,  I  am  glad  that  I  came  to  you,"  said 
Christian,  in  low,  earnest  tones,  in  the  pause 
which  followed.  The  girl,  breathing  deeply 
under  the  fervor  of  her  mood,  looked  fixedly 
before  her  toward  the  copper-haze  above 
Paul's  dome.  He  watched  the  noble 
immobility  of  her  profile  and  thrilled  at  its 
suggestion  of  strength. 

"To  do  him  justice,"  she  went  on,  mus 
ingly,  "he  does  not  pretend  that  it  is  prog 
ress.  He  is  honest,  and  he  describes  it  as 
reaction — a  long  step  backward.  It  is  just 
that  kind  of  honesty  and  devotion,  plus 
wrong-headedness,  which  keeps  us  all  at 
sixes  and  sevens.  If  we  agree  that  there  is 
404 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

no  better-intentioned  man  alive  than  Eman- 
uel — still  he  would  do  more  harm  than  the 
most  atrocious  blackguard,  if  he  had  his  way 
with  the  world.  But  fortunately,  he  will 
not  have  it.  A  vastly  greater  and  loftier 
Jew  has  said  that  you  cannot  pour  new  wine 
into  old  bottles." 

They  walked  on  for  a  little  in  silence. 
"Have  you  been  to  Emanuel's  place  then?" 
Christian  asked  at  last. 

"No;  I  know  it  only  from  hearsay,  and 
from  his  books.  A  woman  novelist  for 
whom  I  do  work  has  been  there,  and  she 
has  told  me  a  good  deal  about  it.  She  is 
going  to  use  it  in  a  book,  and  would  you 
believe  it?  she  is  crazy  with  enthusiasm 
about  the  whole  thing.  I  tried  to  point  out 
to  her  what  she  was  doing,  but  you  might 
as  well  talk  to  the  east  wind.  The  way 
women  run  after  the  hand  that  smites  them, 
and  beslaver  it  with  kisses — that  is  the  thing 
that  enrages  me  most  of  all.  Why,  the  very 
corner-stone  of  Emanuel's  System  is  the 
perpetual  enslavement  of  women.  I  am 
always  surprised,  when  I  hear  about  his 
mediaeval  arrangements,  that  he  hasn't  set 
up  a  ducking-stool  for  his  women-folk.  I'm 
sure  it's  a  pure  oversight  on  his  part.  Well, 
what  are  you  to  expect  when  cultivated 
women  like  Mrs.  Sessyl-Trant  turn  up  as 
405 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

frantic  admirers  of  that  sort  of  thing?  How 
ever,  thank  goodness,  women  are  not  forever 
to  be  sold  out  by  the  fools  of  their  own  sex. 
It  is  impossible  not  to  see  that  the  tide  has 
turned  at  last.  There  is  a  change — and  I 
think  something  genuine  and  lasting  is  going 
to  come  out  of  it.  I  really  think  it!" 

"Ah,  that  is  what  I  feel,"  put  in  Chris 
tian,  with  confused  eagerness.  "I  have  no 
clear  thoughts  about  it,  but  it  is  my  deep 
feeling  that — that — what  shall  I  say? — we 
are  most  at  fault  in  the  matter  of  the 
women." 

Frances  pursued  her  thought,  in  frowning 
meditation.  "It  is  the  new  professional 
class,  who  earn  their  own  living,  who  will 
help  us  out.  These  women,  who  have  come 
through  the  mill  of  self-responsibility,  will 
not  accept  the  old  nonsense  invented  for 
them,  and  imposed  upon  them  by  the  women 
parasites.  The  younger  women  who  take 
care  of  themselves  have  all  begun  to  ask 
questions:  'Why  should  I  do  this?'  'Why 
shouldn't  I  do  that?'  'And  whose  business 
but  my  own  is  it  if  I  do  the  other?'  Unfortu 
nately,  they  are  too  ready  to  accept  the  first 
answer  that  comes  to  them.  Oh,  that  is  the 
woeful  trouble !  Men  have  slowly  built  up 
for  themselves  a  good  deal  of  machinery  by 
which  they  can  find  out  what  is  true.  I 
406 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

don't  say  they  are  not  continually  deceived, 
or  that  they  invariably  recognize  the  truth 
when  they  see  it,  but  still  they  have  certain 
facilities  for  protecting  themselves  against 
falsehoods.  But  women  have  practically 
none  at  all.  They  are  systematically  lied  to 
from  their  cradle  to  their  grave.  They  read 
so  hard ! — they  are  the  consumers  of  novels, 
religious  books,  weekly  newspapers,  maga 
zines,  and  the  rest  of  it — but  never  a  word 
of  actual  truth  is  allowed  to  reach  them  out 
of  it  all.  Wherever  they  turn  to  inquire 
about  themselves,  about  their  rights  and 
their  duties  in  this  world  that  they  have 
been  born  into,  they  encounter  this  vast, 
unbroken  conspiracy  of  liars.  That  is  the 
gravest  of  all  the  disadvantages  they  labor 
under.  Why,  take  even  the  'New  Woman' 
fiction  of  a  few  years  ago.  There  was  a 
great  hullabaloo  raised  over  certain  novels ; 
at  last,  they  cried,  the  truth  was  being 
revealed  by  women,  for  women,  of  women. 
But  what  nonsense!  It  turned  out  not  to  be 
the  truth  at  all,  but  only  the  old  falsehood, 
disguised  in  hysterics  and  some  shocking  bad 
manners.  There  seems  no  escape  for  women 
anywhere.  They  are  lied  to  by  their  parents, 
their  parsons,  their  doctors,  their  authors — 
and  of  course  they  lie  to  one  another.  They 
have  a  whole  debased  currency  of  insincer- 
407 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

ities  and  flattering  falsehoods  which  they 
pass  among  themselves,  keeping  straight 
faces  all  the  while  as  if  it  were  honest 
money. — But  as  I  said,  I  think  a  change  is 
coming.  However,  don't  let's  talk  any  more 
about  it.  I  get  too  angry!" 

"I  like  you  to  be  angry — only  not  with 
me,"  commented  Christian  with  a  sprightly 
smile.  Then  he  added,  more  gravely,  "Oh, 
I  can  see  how  the  women  who  work  will 
make  a  change.  It  was  very  curious  to  me 
to  see  those  girls  at  the  machines  in  your 
office.  It  was  one  of  them  who  let  me 
in,  before  you  came.  She  was  quite  differ 
ent  from  any  of  the  English  women  I  have 
been  meeting.  One  saw  that  she  had 
thoughts  of  her  own — an  atmosphere  of  her 
own.  I  should  not  like  to  tell  lies  to  her;  I 
think  she  would  detect  them  more  rapidly 
than  I  could  get  them  out." 

"Oh,  Connie,"  laughed  Frances.  "Yes, 
she  has  a  head  on  her  shoulders.  They  are 
all  fairly  bright  girls,  and  they  get  on 
together  extremely  well.  It's  quite  their 
own  idea  to  divide  up  the  work  equally 
among  the  lot,  and  when  there  is  not  much 
doing  to  take  turns  in  working  alter 
nate  days.  I  think  it  was  rather  fine  of 
them." 

"Ah,  that  is  the  class  of  women  one  would 
408 


GLORIA    MUNDI 

like  to  help,"  he  declared.  "That  is  what  I 
will  devote  myself  to." 

"But  it  is  the  class  which  prefers  to  help 
itself,"  she  explained  quietly.  "I  see  no 
way  in  which  you  could  'help'  them,  as  you 
call  it.  They  don't  want  any  help.  Men 
in  their  position  might  take  tips,  but  these 
girls  won't."  As  he  received  the  rebuff  in 
silence,  she  changed  the  subject.  "I  am 
meeting  now  some  other  young  women  who 
would  interest  you.  They  are  doing  news 
paper  work — and  doing  it  on  its  merits,  too, 
and  not  by  the  favoritism  of  editors  and 
proprietors — and  one  or  two  evenings  a  week 
we  all  get  together  at  my  office  and  talk 
things  over.  Sometimes  there  are  as  many 
as  twenty  of  us,  including  my  girls.  In  a 
year  or  two,  perhaps  it  will  run  to  a  club- 
room  of  our  own.  I  don't  know  that  I  told 
you — I  am  getting  into  newspaper  work  my 
self.  If  I  saw  how  to  combine  it  with  my 
office  business,  I  could  have  a  place  on  a 
regular  daily  staff.  I'm  puzzling  a  good  deal 
to  find  some  way  of  making  the  two  things 
go  together. ' ' 

"Oh,  I  envy  you!"  broke  in  Christian, 
impulsively.  4 '  You  have  work  to  do !  You 
are  interested  in  your  work !  You  find  in  it 
not  only  occupation,  but  the  opportunities 
of  being  useful  to  others,  and  of  making 
409 


GLORIA    MUNDI 

your  life,  and  other  people's  lives,  worth 
living.  But  think  of  me!  I  have  nothing 
in  the  wide  world  to  do,  except  wait  for  a 
very  strong  old  man  to  die.  And  when  he 
dies,  then  still  I  have  nothing  to  do  worth 
doing.  Don't  you  see  that  it  is  the  most 
miserable  of  existences?  I  am  filled  with 
disgust  for  it.  I  cannot  bear  it  another  day. 
And  that  is  what  I  was  going  to  tell  you.  I 
have  decided  to  leave  it  all — and  go  away." 

Frances  paused  for  a  moment  to  scrutinize, 
with  slightly  narrowed  eyes,  the  excited 
face  he  turned  to  her.  "How  will  going 
away  improve  matters?"  she  asked  him, 
upon  reflection. 

He  put  out  his  lips,  and  shrugged  his 
shoulders.  « '  At  least  I  shall  be  a  free  man, ' ' 
he  affirmed. 

Unconsciously  she  imitated  his  gesture  in 
turn:  "It  does  not  follow  that  a  deserter  is 
necessarily  a  free  man." 

He  flushed  and  winced  visibly  under  the 
words,  and  turned  away  biting  his  lips. 
Then,  the  vexation  clearing  from  his  face, 
he  wheeled  again,  and  regarded  her  with 
calm  gravity. 

"There  is  no  one  else  who  could  say  that 

to  me  and  not  injure    me,"  he  answered, 

simply.      "But  that  is  the  characteristic  of 

you— when  you  say  such  a  thing  to  me,  then 

410 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

it  becomes  a  thing  that  should  have  been 
said.  Yet  perhaps  it  is  not  the  final  word, 
after  all.  Ask  yourself  what  it  is  that  I  am 
deserting!  Consider  whether  I  should  give 
up  or  gain  something.  Here  in  England  it 
is  possible  for  me  to  be  one  of  two  things — 
the  conventional  person  of  position  like  all 
the  others,  or  the  exceptional  kind  of  being 
which  Emanuel  desires  to  make  of  me.  I 
have  been  at  school  for  half  a  year  learning 
what  it  is  that  society  in  general  expects  a 
man  in  my  situation  to  do.  Now  that  I  have 
learned  it,  frankly  it  makes  me  sick  at  heart. 
But  then  I  have  been  at  another  school  for 
a  month,  observing  and  studying  what  it  is 
that  Emanuel  wishes  me  to  undertake.  We 
have  agreed  that  that  is  not  to  be  thought 
of,  either.  Then  what  am  I  to  do?" 

"But  how  does  running  away  solve  the 
difficulty?"  She  put  the  question  to  him 
with  gentle  persistency. 

"Ah,  but,  you  see,"  he  rejoined,  argu- 
mentatively,  "it  is  not  alone  a  moral  diffi 
culty.  There  are  practical  questions,  too. 
When  I  announce  to  Emanuel  that  I  reject 
his  plans  for  my  future,  then  I  am  left  to 
myself  to  be  that  most  ridiculous  of  objects 
—a  man  with  a  great  station  and  no  money 
to  keep  it  up.  That  is  what  I  must  be  here 
in  England.  But  in  other  countries,  that 
411 


GLORIA    MUNDI 

will  not  be  the  case.  There  will  always  be 
enough  money  for  me  to  live  like  a  prince 
upon — so  long  as  I  travel  about,  in  my  own 
yacht  if  I  like,  or  reside  simply  and  happily 
in  the  beautiful  places  of  the  earth,  here  and 
there,  as  the  fancy  possesses  me.  Thus  I 
can  put  to  use  the  prestige  of  my  title,  when 
it  is  of  advantage  to  do  so — but  only  in  so 
far  as  it  is  needful  at  the  moment — and  at 
the  same  time  it  does  not  become  a  burden 
to  me  in  any  degree.  Now  think  carefully 
of  this — is  it  not  the  wisest  course  for  me?" 

She  seemed  not  to  pause  for  thought  at 
all.  "Oh,  that  depends  upon  how  you 
define  wisdom,"  she  replied,  promptly. 
"There  is  the  wisdom  of  the  serpent,  but 
fortunately  there  are  many  other  kinds. 
No,  I  must  say,  you  haven't  convinced  me 
in  the  least.  However,  you  mustn't  think 
that  is  of  importance.  You  are  under  no 
obligation  to  convince  me,  surely!" 

"Ah,  but  that  is  everything  to  me,"  he 
insisted.  "There  are  reasons — which  I  wish 
to  explain  to  you. ' ' 

He  could  not  keep  a  new  meaning  out  of 
the  glance  with  which  he  enforced  this 
assurance.  They  had  strolled  round  to 
Ludgate  Circus,  and  come  to  a  halt  on  the 
corner,  with  their  backs  turned  upon  a 
window  full  of  droll  phrenological  charts  and 
412 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

symbols.  He  consulted  his  watch  once 
more.  "I  breakfasted  so  lightly,  and  so 
early,"  he  said — "it  is  not  luncheon  time 
quite,  but  that  will  give  us  a  table  to  our 
selves.  You  will  come  across  with  me,  will 
you  not?  There  are  truly  important  things 
which  have  not  been  said — which  I  much 
wish  to  say." 

After  a  moment's   reflection  she  nodded 
her  assent. 


CHAPTER  XX 

Christian  and  Frances  ate  their  luncheon 
in  an  upper  chamber,  close  to  a  kind  of 
balcony  window,  which  gave  upon  one  of  the 
city's  most  crowded  thoroughfares.  An 
unceasing  and  uniform  uproar — overridden 
from  time  to  time  by  the  superior  tumult  of 
a  passing  railway  train  on  a  bridge  near  by 
—rose  from  this  indefatigable  street.  They 
had  the  room  to  themselves;  the  portentous 
din  magnified  the  effect  of  the  solitude  in 
which  they  regarded  each  other,  crumbling 
the  bread  on  the  table  absent-mindedly,  and 
waiting  for  the  inspiration  of  speech. 

"When  I  get  back,"  the  girl  said  at  last 
with  a  smile,  "the  racket  of  my  typewriters 
will  seem  like  the  murmur  of  a  gentle  breeze 
down  a  leafy  country  lane." 

They  laughed— but  they  had  discovered 
it  was  not  so  hard  to  make  oneself  heard 
as  they  had  supposed.  Their  voices  in 
tuitively  found  a  level  which  served  their 
personal  needs,  yet  did  not  incommode  the 
waiters  yawning-  at  the  head  of  the  stairway 
outside. 


GLORIA  MUNDI 

"Have  you  taken  to  the  bicycle?"  she  was 
moved  in  sheer  irrelevance  to  ask  him. 
When  he  shook  his  head,  she  went  on:  "It 
is  a  wonderful  thing  for  women.  It  has 
done  more  for  them  in  three  years,  than  all 
the  progressive  intellectual  movements  of 
civilization  did  in  three  hundred.  We  all 
use  them,  coming  to  and  from  the  office. 
We  have  to  store  them  down  in  the  area, 
now — but  I  am  going  to  find  a  better  place. " 

Christian  rolled  his  bread  crumbs  into 
balls  and  stared  at  them  in  a  brown  study, 
from  which  this  topic  was  powerless  to  arouse 
him. 

"I  wish,"  he  said,  finally — "I  wish  very 
much  that  I  knew  how  to  convince  you. 
But  I  seem  never  to  produce  any  impression 
upon  you.  You  are  unyielding  to  the  touch. 
It  is  I  who  get  molded  and  kneaded  about 
whenever  I  come  close  to  you.  And  I  don't 
say  that  it  is  not  for  the  best.  Only — only 
"now,  you  will  not  accept  my  own  ideas  of 
what  I  should  do,  and  you  will  not  tell  me 
what  your  ideas  are. ' ' 

"I  am  not  sure  that  I  have  any  ideas,"  she 
assured  him.  "It  is  merely  that,  on  general 
principles,  I  don't  care  for  the  people  who 
settle  difficulties  by  turning  tail  and  running 
away  from  them." 

"Very  well,"   he  began,  as   if  an  impor- 
416 


GLORIA    MUNDI 

tant  premise  had  been  accepted.  "But  as  to 
my  special  case,  I  have  stated  what  must  be 
my  position  if  I  remain  in  England.  To 
me  it  seems  that  it  must  be  impossible — 
intolerable.  But  you  have  some  different 
view,  evidently.  That  is  what  I  beg  you  to 
explain  to  me.  If  I  am  to  remain  in  Eng 
land,  what  is  it  your  idea  that  I  should  do?" 

She  knitted  her  brows  a  little,  and  took 
time  to  her  reply.  "You  seem  to  think  so 
entirely  of  yourself,"  she  said,  slowly,  "it  is 
very  hard  to  know  what  to  say  to  you.  I 
cannot  put  myself,  you  see,  so  completely  in 
your  place,  as  you  are  always  able  to  do. ' ' 

He  opened  his  eyes  wide,  and  informed 
their  gaze  with  a  surprised  reproach. 
"There  you  are  surely  unjust  to  me,"  he 
urged,  pleadingly.  "I  do  not  know  anyone 
who  thinks  more  about  other  people  than  I 
do.  One  hesitates  to  say  these  things  about 
oneself — but  truly  you  are  mistaken  in  this 
matter.  In  fact,  I  wonder  sometimes  if  it  is 
not  a  fault,  a  weakness  in  my  nature,  that  I 
am  so  readily  moved  by  the  sufferings  and 
wrongs  of  unhappy  people.  Whenever  I  see 
injustice,  I  am  beside  myself  with  a  passion 
to  set  it  right.  I  grow  almost  sick  with 
indignation,  and  pity,  when  these  things 
come  before  me.  Last  night,  for  example, 
at  the  Empire " 

417 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

Christian  stopped  abruptly,  with  the 
sudden  consciousness  that  the  ground  was 
not  clear  before  him.  He  saw  that  he  was 
entirely  without  a  clue  as  to  what  his  com 
panion's  views  on  the  subject  might  be. 
That  was  her  peculiarity :  he  knew  concern 
ing  her  thoughts  and  inclinations  only  what 
she  chose  to  reveal  to  him.  It  was  beyond 
his  power  to  predict  what  her  attitude  would 
be  on  any  new  topic.  Looking  at  her 
thoughtful,  serene-eyed  face,  it  decidedly 
seemed  to  him  that  the  Empire,  as  an  ethical 
problem,  might  with  advantage  be  passed 
by.  He  hesitated  for  a  moment,  in  the 
friendly  shelter  of  the  street  noise,  and  then 
gave  another  termination  to  his  speech:  "It 
puzzles  me  that  you  should  have  that  view 
of  my  temperament. " 

"Ah,  that  is  just  it — you  have  put  the 
word  into  my  mouth.  It  is  'temperament' 
that  you  are  thinking  of — and  about  that  you 
are  perfectly  right.  Your  temperament  is  as 
open  to  the  impulses  of  the  moment — kindly, 
generous,  compassionate  and  all  that — as  a 
flower  is  to  the  bees.  But  character  is 
another  matter.  What  good  do  your  fine 
momentary  sentiments,  these  rapid  noble 
emotions  of  yours,  do  you  or  anybody  else? 
You  experience  them — and  forget  them. 
The  only  thing  that  abides  permanently  with 
418 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

you  is  consideration  for  your  own  personal 
affairs." 

"This  is  all  very  unjust, "  he  said,  disconso 
lately.  "I  come  to  you  for  solace  and  friend 
ship,  and  you  turn  upon  me  with  beak  and 
claws."  He  sighed,  with  the  beginning  of 
tears  in  his  bright  eyes,  as  he  added:  "There 
is  more  reason  than  ever,  it  seems  to  me, 
why  I  should  go  away  from  England !  It  is 
not  kind  to  me!" 

His  doleful  tone  and  mien  drove  her  to 
swift  repentance.  "Oh,  I  have  only  been 
saying  the  disagreeable  things  first,  to  get 
them  out  of  the  way, "  she  sought  to  reassure 
him.  * ' There  isn ' t  another  unpleasant  word 
for  you  to  hear,  not  one,  I  promise  you." 

"It  is  my  opinion  that  there  have  been 
enough,"  he  ventured  to  comment,  with  a 
rueful  little  smile.  A  measure  of  composure 
returned  to  him.  "But  if  they  must  be  said, 
I  would  rather  they  come  from  you  than 
from  any  one  else,  for  I  think  that  you  have 
also  some  pleasant  thoughts  about  me." 

She  nodded  her  head  several  times  in  as 
sent,  regarding  him  with  an  amused  twinkle 
in  her  eyes  meanwhile.  "Yes — the  right  kind 
of  editor  could  make  very  interesting 
stuff  indeed  out  of  you, ' '  she  said,  and  smiled 
almost  gaily  at  his  visible  failure  to  compre 
hend  her  figure.  "What  I  mean  is — you  are 
419 


GLORIA    MUNDI 

too  much  sail,  and  too  little  boat.  You  drift 
before  every  new  wind  that  blows.  There 
is  lacking  that  kind  of  balance — proportion 
—which  gives  stability.  But,  dear  me,  it  is  a 
thousand  times  better  to  be  like  that,  than  to 
have  an  excess  of  the  othei  thing.  The  man 
of  the  solid  qualities,  without  the  imagina 
tion,  simply  sticks  in  the  mud  where  he  was 
born.  But  with  you — if  the  right  person 
chances  to  get  hold  of  you,  and  brings  the 
right  influences  steadily  to  bear  upon  you, 
then  there  is  no  telling  what  fine  things  you 
may  not  rise  to. " 

"You  are  that  right  person!" 

He  lifted  his  voice  to  utter  these  words, 
with  the  air  of  feeling  them  to  be  momen 
tous.  His  eyes  glowed  as  they  reaffirmed 
the  declaration  to  her  inquiring  glance.  But 
she  seemed  to  miss  the  gravity  of  both  words 
and  look. 

"Oh,  there  you're  wrong,"  she  said,  half 
jestingly.  "I'm  too  bad  tempered  and 
quarrelsome  to  exert  any  proper  influence 
over  any  one.  Why,  I  should  nag  all  the  joy 
and  high  spirits  out  of  you  in  no  time  at  all. 
No — you  need  an  equable  and  happy  person, 
really  very  wise  and  strong  and  sensible, 
but  above  all  with  an  easy,  smooth  disposi 
tion — such  a  person,  for  example,  as  Eman- 
uel's  wife  is  described  to  be." 
420 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

"No— I  need  no  one  but  you!"  he  repeated 
with  accentuated  deliberation. 

This  time  she  appeared  to  feel  something 
of  his  intention.  She  looked  into  the  gaze 
he  was  bending  upon  her  and  then  withdrew 
her  eyes  precipitately,  and  made  a  show  of 
active  interest  in  her  food. 

"I  am  asking  you  to  think  of  joining  your 
life  to  mine, ' '  he  went  on,  in  low,  yet  very  dis 
tinct  tones.     ' '  You  cannot  know  a  hundredth 
part  as  well  as  I  do,   how  profoundly  I  need 
such  help  as  you  can  give.     You  are  the  one 
woman  in  the  world  who  means  strength  as 
well  as  happiness  to  me.     If  you  could  only 
dream  with  what  yearning  I  long  always  to 
lean  upon  you— to  be  supported  by  your  fine, 
calm,  sweet  wisdom!     To  be  upheld  by  you 
—to   be   nourished   and    guided    by    you— 
oh,   that  is  the  vision  which  I  tremble  with 
joy  to  think  of !     I  am  my  own  master  for  the 
first  time  to-day— I  have  taken  rny  life  into 
my  own  hands— and  I  lay  it  at  your  feet- 
dear  lady — at  your  feet. ' ' 

She  rose  abruptly  while  his  last  words 
were  in  the  air,  and  turning,  moved  to  the 
window.  She  had  contrived  by  a  gesture  to 
bid  him  not  to  follow,  and  he  could  only  gaze 
in  mingled  apprehension  and  hope  at  her 
back,  the  while  she  stood  professing  to  scruti 
nize  the  shifting  throng  below. 
421 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

The  waiter  brought  in  another  dish, 
methodically  rearranged  the  plates  and  went 
away  again.  To  Christian's  bitter  disgust, 
two  men  entered  and  took  seats  at  a  table  at 
the  other  end  of  the  small  room — and  still 
she  did  not  turn.  He  meditated  calling  her, 
or  joining  her  on  the  pretense  of  announcing 
the  cutlets — and  only  stared  in  nervous 
excitement  instead. 

Then,  as  suddenly  as  she  had  left  him  she 
returned,  and  resumed  her  chair  as  if  noth 
ing  unusual  had  happened  His  strenuous 
gaze  swept  her  face  for  tokens  of  her  mood 
— of  her  inclination  or  decision — but  beyond 
a  spot  of  vivid  red  on  each  smooth  cheek, 
there  was  no  sign  of  any  sort.  Her  frank, 
calm  gray  eyes  met  his  with  unruffled  direct 
ness;  they  had  in  them  that  suggestion  of 
benignant  tolerance  which  he  had  discerned 
there  more  than  once  before. 

"You  do  not  answer  me!"  he  pleaded, 
after  a  few  mouthfuls.  As  his  back  shielded 
the  action  from  the  strangers,  he  put  forth  a 
cautious  hand  to  touch  the  nearest  of  hers, 
but  she  drew  it  gently  away  beyond  his 
reach.  They  automatically  adjusted  their 
voices  to  the  conditions  created  by  the  new 
comers. 

"There  could  be  only  one  possible 
answer,"  she  told  him,  softly,  almost 
422 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

tenderly.  "It  is  a  very  flattering  dream — 
to  me — but  it  is  a  mere  empty  dream,  none 
the  less.  I  hope  you  will  not  want  to  talk 
about  it  any  more. " 

"But  I  swear  that  it  is  not  empty  at  all!" 
he  urged,  in  earnest  tones.  "Who  has  a 
right  to  say  that  it  is  a  dream?  I  am  my 
own  master — so  are  you.  We  are  of  age — we 
are  intelligent  people.  I  deliberately  come 
to  you,  and  say  to  you  that  you  are  the  one 
woman  on  earth  whom  I  desire  with  all  my 
heart  for  my  wife.  I  open  my  mind  to  you. 
There  is  only  the  image  of  you  inside  it. 
You  know  my  sincerity.  You  must  feel 
how  supreme  is  the  place  you  have  in  my 
thoughts.  It  is  the  logical  end  toward  which 
I  have  been  walking  ever  since  I  first  saw 
you!  You  are  all  that  there  is  of  true  friend 
ship,  of  true  womanhood,  for  me !  I  put  out 
my  hands  to  you,  I  pray  to  you !  And  why 
will  you  not  come  to  me,  dear,  dear  Frank?" 

There  was  a  touch  of  pathos  in  the  smile 
she  gave  him.  "It  isn't  the  least  bit  of 
good,  I  assure  you,"  she  made  answer,  in 
the  confidential  murmur  that  was  necessary. 
"One  can't  talk  here — but  please  let  us  speak 
of  something  else.  Or  can  we  not  go  now?" 

He  went  on  as  if  she  had  not  spoken,  his 
big,  dark  eyes  challenging  hers  to  an 
encounter  which  she  evaded.  "Do  not 
423 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

think  we  need  go  away  from  England,  if 
you  want  to  stay ;  there  will  always  be  money 
enough— with  your  wisdom  in  controlling  it. 
Perhaps  we   may  even   be   able  to   restore 
Caermere.     But  if  we  are  not,  still  it  can  be 
one  of  the  noblest  and  most  beautiful  resi 
dences  in  England,  when  we  learn  together 
to  understand  its   charm,  and  make  it  our 
home.     Oh,  when  you  see  the  magnificent 
hills  and  forests  shutting  it  in  on  all  sides — 
and  the  grim,  fine  old  walls  and  towers  of 
the  castle  itself !     But  there  we  need  live  only 
when  we  choose  to  do  so — and  whenever  the 
mood  comes  to  us,  off  we  can  roam  to  the 
Alps   or   Algiers,    or  the    wonderful    India 
which  one  always  dreams  of.     And  we  shall 
sail  in  our  own  yacht  and  you  shall  be  the 
queen  there,  as  everywhere  else.     And  all 
our  lives  we  will  spend  in    doing   good   to 
others:  do  you  not  see  what  extraordinary 
opportunities  for  helping  those  who  need  help 
you    will    have?     Where   now    you    are    of 
service  to  one  person,  then  you  can  assist  a 
hundred !     An  army  of  grateful  people  will 
give   thanks   because    of    you — and    I   will 
always  be  the  chief  of  them— your  foremost 
slave,  your  most  reverent  worshiper!     And 
then — think  of  the  joy  of  a  life  in  which  no  one 
has  a  share  who  is  not  pleasant  and  welcome 
to  us !     We  will  have  no  one  near  us  who  is 
424 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

not  our  friend.  Oh,  I  have  not  told  you: 
that  is  why,  this  very  morning,  I  decided  to 
leave  it  all,  and  to  make  a  new  life  for  my 
self,  and  to  spend  it  wholly  with  my  real 
friends.  It  is  loneliness,  heart  and  soul  lone 
liness,  that  has  driven  me  to  revolt.  And  in 
my  despair  I  come  to  you — and  I  say  to  you 
that  it  is  friendship  that  I  cannot  live  with 
out,  and  you  are  my  oldest  friend,  my 
dearest,  truest,  most  precious  friend,  and  I 
beg  you  to  come  with  me  and  we  will  go 
through  the  world  together,  hand  in 
hand " 

She  interrupted  him  by  pushing  back  her 
chair  and  half  rising.  "If  you  will  excuse 
me  now,"  she  said,  nervously,  "I  think  I 
must  go.  You  mustn't  trouble  to  come — I 
will  say  good-bye  here. ' ' 

He  had  risen  as  well,  and  now  in  trembling 
earnestness  protested  against  her  proposal. 
At  the  risk  of  attracting  the  attention  of  the 
strangers,  he  displayed  such  resentful  opposi 
tion  that  she  yielded.  The  waiter  was  sum 
moned  —  and  remained  bowing  in  dazed 
meditation  upon  the  magnitude  of  the 
change  he  had  been  bidden  to  keep  for  him 
self,  after  they  had  passed  out  and  down  the 
staircase. 

She  led  the  way  at  a  hurried  pace  back 
across  the  Circus  and  to  Blackf  riars.  At  the 
425 


GLORIA    MUNDI 

rounded  beginning  of  the  Embankment  she 
paused,  and  for  the  first  time  spoke.  ' '  Really 
I  would  rather  go  back  by  myself, ' '  she  told 
him.  "It  is  only  unhappiness  to  both  of  us 
— what  you  insist  on  talking  about. ' ' 

"But  I  do  not  think  it  is  to  be  treated  in 
this  way,"  he  declared  with  dignity.  "If 
we  speak  of  nothing  else  it  is  the  highest 
and  most  solemn  honor  that  a  man  can  pay 
to  any  woman,  that  I  have  paid  to  you.  I 
have  the  feeling  that  it  should  be  more 
courteously  dealt  with." 

"Yes,  I  know,"  she  admitted,  nodding  her 
ready  compunction.  She  tightened  her  lips 
and  looked  away  from  him  toward  the 
bridge,  her  brows  drawn  together  in  troubled 
lines.  "I  don't  say  the  right  thing  to  you — 
I  know  that  better  even  than  you  do.  You 
must  not  think  I  fail  to  appreciate  it  all— 
the  honor,  and  the  immense  confidence,  and 
all  the  rest  of  it.  But  when  I  have  said  that 
much— then  I  don't  know  in  the  least  how 
to  say  the  rest.  Why  can't  we  leave  it  unsaid 
altogether?  I  assure  you,  in  all  seriousness, 
that  it  can't  be — and  mayn't  we  leave  it  like 
that?  Please!" 

He  regarded  her  with  a  patient  yet  proud 

sadness,  waiting  to  speak  till  she  had  turned, 

and  his  glance  caught  hers.     "I  do  not  wish 

to  become  a  nuisance  to  you,"  he  said,  his 

426 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

voice  choking  a  little,  "but  I  think  it  would 
be  better  if  you  said  everything  to  me. 
Then  I  shall  not  put  my  mind  on  the  rack,  to 
try  and  imagine  your  reasons."  He  let  his 
lip  curl  with  a  lingering  ironical  perception 
of  the  fantastic  with  which  his  tragedy  was 
veined.  "It  is  very  sweet,"  he  went  on— 
"your  consideration  for  my  feelings.  But 
I  have  heard  so  many  plain  truths  to-day,  I 
think  my  sensibilities  are  in  good  training 
now— they  will  not  suffer  for  a  few  more." 
Suddenly,  as  if  the  sound  of  his  voice  had 
unnerved  him,  he  seized  her  arm,  and  con 
fronted  her  surprised  gaze  with  a  reddened 
and  scowling  face.  "What  are  you  afraid 
of?"  he  demanded  hoarsely.  "Why  not  say 
it?  I  heard  it  only  last  night!  It  is  forty 
years  old,  it  is  true,  but  they  have  wonderful 
memories  in  England.  You  are  the  one 
whom  I  have  held  to  be  my  dearest  friend 
— but  go  on!  Say  it  to  me!  A  little  thing 
like  friendship  does  not  prevent  you  from 
thinking  it!  Why,  then,  you  should  have 
the  courage  to  speak  it  out!" 

Dimly,  while  she  stared  in  his  distracted 
countenance,  the  meaning  of  the  wild  talk 
dawned  upon  her.  With  a  startled  excla 
mation,  she  dragged  her  arm  from  his  clutch, 
and  drew  back  a  step.  Trembling  in  her 
agitation,  her  gray  eyes  distended  them- 
427 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

selves  out  of  all  likeness  to  their  tranquil 
habit. 

"Oh-h-h!"  she  murmured  in  dismay  at 
him,  and  wrung  her  hands.  "Oh-h!  Stop! 
Stop !  That  is  too  horrible  for  you  to  think ! ' ' 
Gaining  coherence  of  thought  and  purpose, 
she  moved  impulsively  to  him,  and  in  turn 
clasped  her  hand  upon  his  arm.  * '  Put  that  out 
of  your  mind!"  she  adjured  him.  "I  could 
not  look  anybody  in  the  face  if  you  thought 
that  of  me.  Oh,  it  is  too  terrible  of  you! 
How  could  you  suppose  that  I  could  harbor 
such  a  thought?  To  blame  you  for  some 
thing  years  before  you  were  born !— to  throw 
it  into  your  face.  And  me  of  all  people! 
Why,  I  have  cried  to  myself  at  remembering 
what  you  said  about  your  father  when  we 
first  met— how  your  little-boy  memory  clung 
affectionately  to  the  soldier-figure  of  him  in 
the  door-way!  Look  at  me— I  cry  now  to 
think  of  it!  Why,  it  is  the  one  thing  about 
you  that  is  sacred  to  me!— the  one  thing  that 
you  are  perfect  in — and  then  you  imagine 
that  I  am  capable  of  insulting  you  about  it ! 
Oh,  heavens,  why  wouldn't  you  leave  me 
when  I  told  you  to?" 

She  threw  his  arm  from  her  in  a  gust  of 

physical  impatience,   but    the    glance    with 

which,   on  the    instant,   she   corrected    this 

demonstration,  was  full  of  honest  compas- 

428 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

sion.  He  groveled  before  this  benign  gaze, 
with  bowed  head  and  outstretched,  plead 
ing  hands. 

Forgi ve  me !  Forgive  me ! "  he  groaned, 
brokenly.  "I  could  not— at  all— know  what 
it  was  I  said.  I  am  too  unhappy!" 

"Well,"  she  began,  with  a  vehement  effort 
at  calmness,  "let  us  say  good-bye  here. 
There  are  some  Germans  watching  us  from 
the  hotel  windows.  Or  it  is  better  perhaps 
—will  you  walk  on  past  the  school?' '  As  they 
moved  forward,  she  recovered  more  of  her 
self-possession.  "I  hope  you  will  be  able  to 
remember  something  pleasant  out  of  our 
morning, "  she  said,  and  with  a  joyless  laugh 
added,  "but  for  the  life  of  me,  I  don't  know 
what  it  can  be.  Or  yes,  you  can  remember 
when  you  woke  up,  and  I  stood  and  scolded 
you,  from  above  the  flowers.  I  pretended 
to  bully  you,  but  really  all  the  while  I  was 
thinking  how  sweet  of  you  the  entire  thing 
was.  And  later,  too— oh,  there  were  several 
intervals  in  which  I  behaved  civilly  to  you 
for  whole  minutes  at  a  time. ' ' 

He  looked  wistfully  at  her.  Beneath  the 
forced  playfulness  of  her  tone  it  seemed  to 
him  that  something  hopeful  sounded.  "Ah, 
dear  friend,"  he  murmured,  drawing  close 
to  her—" think!— think  tenderly  in  my 
behalf!  Ask  yourself— your  kindest  self— if 
429 


GLORIA   MUND1 

I  must  be  really  driven  away.  Why  is  it 
that  I  may  not  stay?  I  plead  with  you  as  if 
it  were  for  my  life — and  is  it  not  indeed  for 
my  life? — my  very  life?" 

"No — Christian,"  she  said,  gravely,  "it  is 
not  your  life,  nor  anything  like  your  life. 
You  give  big  labels  to  your  emotions,  but 
in  good  time  you  will  see  that  the  things 
themselves  are  not  so  big,  or  so  vital.  And 
you  mustn't  yield  so  readily  to  all  these 
impulses  to  mope  and  despair  and  to  think 
yourself  ill  used.  You  must  try  to  make  for 
yourself  a  thicker  skin — and  to  view  things 
more  calmly.  And  I  don't  want  you  to  go 
away  thinking  hard  things  of  me.  Is  it  true 
that  I  always  nag  you — there  is  something 
in  you  which  calls  out  all  the  bully  in  me — but 
I  wish  you  would  think  of  me  as  your  friend. 
It  gives  me  great  pleasure  when  you  speak 
of  me  as  your  oldest  friend  in  England — for 
I  have  always  liked  you,  and  I  am  interested 
in  you,  and — ' ' 

"And  why  will  you  not  marry  me?"  He 
interposed  the  question  bluntly,  and  with  a 
directness  which  gave  it  the  effect  of  an 
obstacle  in  her  path,  isolated  but  impassable. 

She  halted,  and  studied  the  pavement  in 
consideration  of  her  reply.  When  she  looked 
up,  it  was  with  the  veiled  elation  of  a  dis 
putant  who  has  his  counter-stroke  well  in 
430 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

hand.  "You  said  to-day  that  you  had 
become  your  own  master,  and  that  you  were 
a  free  man,  with  your  life  in  your  own  hands. 
Very  well.  I  also  am  my  own  master,  and 
I  am  a  free  woman.  My  life  is  exclusively 
my  own  personal  property,  to  live  as  I  choose 
to  live  it.  I  value  my  liberty  quite  as  highly 
as  if  I  were  a  man.  It  does  not  suit  me  to 
merge  any  part  of  it  in  something  else. 
There  could  be  many  other  reasons  given, 
no  doubt,  but  they  would  be  merely  indi 
vidual  variations  of  this  one  chief  reason — 
that  I  am  a  free  woman,  and  intend  to 
remain  a  free  woman.  I  know  what  I  want 
to  do  in  the  world,  and  I  am  going  to  try  to 
do  it,  always  my  own  way,  always  my  own 
master." 

He  regarded  her  thoughtfully,  bowing  his 
head  in  token  of  comprehension.  "But  if 
— ,"  he  began,  and  then  checked  himself, 
with  a  gesture  of  pained  submission. 

"There  are  no  'ifs,'  "  she  said,  with  reso 
lute  calmness,  and  held  out  her  hand  to  him. 
Her  control  of  the  situation  was  undisputed. 
"We  say  good-bye,  now — and  we  are  friends 
—good  friends.  I — I  thank  you — for  every 
thing!" 

He   stood  looking  at  her   as  she  walked 
away — a  sedately  graceful  figure,  erect  and 
light  of  step,  receding  from  him  under  the 
431 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

pallid  green  shelter  of  the  young  trees. 
Musingly,  he  held  up  the  hand  which  still 
preserved  the  sense  of  that  farewell  contact 
with  hers — and  upon  a  sudden  impulse  put 
it  to  his  lips  and  kissed  it.  Something  in  the 
action  wrought  an  instantaneous  change  in 
his  thoughts.  All  at  once  it  was  apparent 
to  him  that  many  things  which  should  have 
been  said  to  her  he  had  left  unsaid.  In 
truth,  it  seemed  upon  reflection  that  he  had 
said  and  done  everything  wrong.  The 
notion  of  running  after  her  flamed  up  in 
him  for  a  moment.  She  was  still  in  sight — 
he  could  distinguish  her  in  the  distance, 
stopping  to  buy  a  paper  from  a  boy  near 
the  Temple  station.  But  then  the  memory 
of  her  unanswerable,  irrevocable  "No" 
swept  back  upon  him — and  with  a  long  sigh 
he  turned  and  strode  in  the  other  direction. 

Frances,  hastening  mechanically  toward 
her  office,  found  relief  from  the  oppressive 
confusion  of  her  thoughts  in  the  fortuitous 
spectacle  of  two  small  newsboys  fighting  in 
the  gutter  just  at  the  end  of  the  Temple 
Gardens.  For  the  first  time  in  her  life,  the 
sight  aroused  nothing  within  her  save  a 
pleased  if  unscientific  interest.  She  paused, 
and  almost  smilingly  observed  the  contest. 
She  found  something  amusingly  grotesque  in 
432 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

tne  pseudo-Titanic  rage  on  these  baby  faces. 
The  dramatic  fury  of  the  embattled  infants 
was  in  such  ridiculous  disproportion  to  the 
feather-weight  blows  they  exchanged !  She 
found  herself  chuckling  aloud  at  some 
incongruous  comparison  which  rose  in  her 
mind. 

Then,  as  the  combatants  parted,  ap 
parently  for  no  better  reason  than  the 
general  volatility  of  youth,  she  remembered 
that  she  had  it  in  mind  to  look  at  the 
"Star."  One  of  her  friends,  Mary  Leach, 
had  sent  to  that  paper  some  days  before  an 
article  on  "Shopgirls'  Dormitories,"  and  she 
was  interested  in  watching  for  its  appear 
ance.  It  happened  that  one  of  the  boys  had 
a  '  *  Star. ' '  Acting  upon  some  obscure  whim, 
she  gave  them  each  a  penny,  quite  in  the 
manner  of  a  distributor  of  prizes  for  con 
spicuous  merit — and  grinned  to  herself  at  the 
thought  when  she  had  turned  her  back  on 
them  and  moved  on. 

There  was  no  sign  of  what  she  sought  on 
the  front  page.  Opening  the  sheet,  her  eye 
fell,  as  it  were,  upon  a  news  paragraph  in  a 
middle  column : 

"Death  of  the  Oldest  Duke.— The  Shrews 
bury  correspondent  of  the  'Exchange  Tele 
graph'  announces  the  death  at  Caermere 

433 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

Castle,  at  an  early  hour  this  morning,  of  the 
Duke  of  Glastonbury.  His  Grace,  who  was 
in  his  ninetieth  year,  had  until  last  summer 
enjoyed  the  most  vigorous  health,  and  only 
now  succumbs  to  the  prostration  then 
occasioned  by  the  group  of  domestic  bereave 
ments  which  at  the  time  created  such  a 
sensation.  The  deceased  nobleman,  who  for 
the  great  part  of  his  prolonged  life,  was  one 
of  the  best  known  sportsmen  in  Shropshire, 
succeeded  his  father  as  eighth  duke  in  his 
minority,  and  had  been  in  possession  of 
the  title  for  no  less  than  seventeen  years 
when  Her  Majesty  ascended  the  throne,  thus 
constituting  a  record  which  is  believed  to  be 
without  parallel  in  the  annals  of  the  peer 
age.  His  successor  is  stated  by  Whitaker's 
Almanac  to  be  his  grandson,  Mr.  Christian 
Tower,  but  the  current  editions  of  Burke, 
Debrett  and  others  do  not  mention  this  gentle 
man,  whose  claims,  it  would  appear,  have 
but  recently  been  admitted  by  the  family." 

Frances  read  it  all,  as  she  stood  at  the 
corner,  with  a  curious  sense  of  mental  slug 
gishness.  Her  attention  failing  to  follow 
one  of  the  sentences,  she  went  back,  and 
laboriously  traced  its  entire  tortuous  course, 
only  to  find  that  it  meant  no  more  than  it 
had  at  first. 

434 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

It  seemed  a  long-  time  before  she  connected 
the  intelligence  on  the  printed  page  with  the 
realities  of  actual  life.  Then  she  turned 
swiftly,  and  strained  her  eyes  in  the  wild 
hope  of  discovering  Christian  still  on  the 
Embankment.  She  even  took  a  few  hurried 
steps,  as  if  to  follow  and  overtake  him — but 
stopped  short,  confronted  by  the  utter 
futility  of  such  an  enterprise. 

Then,  walking  slowly,  her  mind  a  maze  of 
wondering  thoughts,  she  went  her  way, 


435 


CHAPTER  XXI 

Christian  strolled  aimlessly  about  for  a 
long  time  in  the  closely  packed  congeries  of 
streets,  little  and  big,  behind  St.  Paul's.  It 
happened  to  be  all  new  ground  to  him,  and 
something  novel  was  welcome  to  his  troubled 
and  restless  mind.  He  loitered  from  one 
window  to  another,  examining  their  con 
tents  gravely ;  at  the  old  book  stalls  he  took 
down  numbers  of  volumes  and  looked  labo 
riously  through  them,  as  if  conducting  an 
urgent  search  for  something. 

His  jumbled  thoughts  were  a  burden  to 
him.  He  could  get  nothing  coherent  from 
them.  It  was  not  even  clear  to  his  percep 
tion  whether  he  was  really  as  dejected  and 
disconsolate  as  he  ought  to  be. 

He  had  only  recently  been  plunged  into 
despairing  depths  of  sadness,  and  it  was 
fitting  that  he  should  still  be  racked  with 
anguish.  Yet  there  was  no  actual  pain — 
there  was  not  even  a  dogged  insensibility  to 
the  frivolous  distractions  of  the  moment. 
He  became  exceedingly  interested  in  an  old 
copy  of  Boutell,  for  example,  and  hunted 
437 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

eagerly  through  the  multitude  of  heraldic 
cuts  to  see  if  the  white  bull  on  a  green 
ground  of  the  Torrs  was  among  them.  His 
disappointment  at  not  finding  it  was  so  keen 
that  for  the  instant  it  superseded  his  abiding- 
grief.  His  discovery  of  this  fact  entertained 
him ;  he  was  almost  capable  of  laughing  in 
amusement  at  it.  Then,  in  self-condem 
nation,  he  sought  to  call  up  before  his  mental 
vision  the  picture  of  Frances,  as  she  had 
looked  when  they  had  said  good-bye.  The 
image  would  not  come  distinctly.  Her  face 
eluded  him ;  he  could  only  see  her  walking 
away,  instead,  under  the  feeble  green  of  the 
young  trees.  None  the  less,  he  said  delib 
erately  to  himself  that  he  was  unhappy 
beyond  the  doom  of  most  men,  and  that  the 
hope  had  gone  out  of  his  life. 

The  day  had  turned  out  unexpectedly 
warm.  In  the  middle  of  his  shapeless 
musings,  the  ornate  sign  of  a  Munich 
brewery  on  a  cool,  shaded  doorway  suddenly 
attracted  him.  The  dusky,  restful  empti 
ness  of  the  place  inside  seemed  ideally  to  fit 
his  mood.  He  went  in,  and  seated  himself 
with  a  long  sigh  of  satisfaction  at  one  of  the 
tables.  Here,  in  this  mellow  quiet,  over 
the  refreshing  contents  of  the  big,  covered 
stone  mug,  he  could  think  peacefully  and  to 
advantage.  He  lit  a  cigar,  and  leaning  back 
438 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

in  comfort,  gave  the  signal  to  his  thoughts 
to  arrange  and  concentrate  themselves. 

What  should  he  do  next?     Yes— that  was 
far  more  to  the  point  than  mooning  over  the 
irrevocable  past.     He  had  left  Duke  Street 
with  hardly  any  plan  beyond    not    return 
ing  thither.      Luggage  of  some  sort  he  would 
have   to   have — changes    of    linen    and  the 
like,  and  the  necessary  articles  of  the  toilet. 
It  was  his  intention  to  buy  these  as  the  need 
of   them   arose — and   the   character   of    his 
purchases  would  also  depend  a  good  deal,  of 
course,  upon  the  decision  he  should  come  to 
concerning    his  movements.     He  had  said 
that  he  would  leave  England — and  now  he 
asked  himself  whether  there  was  anything  to 
prevent  his  departure  that  very  evening.  One 
of  the  deepest   charms  of  travel  must  be  to 
start  off  on  the  instant,  upon  the  bidding  of 
the   immediate    whim,    and    descend    upon 
your  destination  before  there  has  been  time 
to  cheapen  it  by  thinking   about  it.     Why 
should  he  not  eat  the  morrow's  breakfast  in 
the     Hague  —  and     dine     at     Amsterdam? 
Similarly,  he  could  within  twenty-four  hours 
be  watching   the   marriage    of    Mosel    and 
Rhine  at  Coblenz— or  gazing  upon  the  wide, 
wet,  white  sands  of  the  Norman  shore  from 
the  towering  battlements  of  St.  Michel.      A 
hundred  storied  towns,  vaguely  pictured  in 

439 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

his  imagination,  beckoned  to  him  from 
across  the  Channel.  Upon  reflection,  it 
seemed  to  him  that  Holland  offered  the  most 
wooing  invitation.  He  asked 'the  waiter 
for  Bradshaw,  and  noted  the  salient  points 
of  the  itinerary  from  Queenborough. 

It  was  now  three  o'clock.  There  was 
plenty  of  time  for  all  purchases,  and  a 
leisurely  dinner  before  going  to  Victoria.  It 
occurred  to  him  that  the  dinner  must  be 
very  good— a  luxurious  kind  of  farewell 
repast. 

He  would  make  a  memorandum  now  of 
the  things  he  ought  to  buy  here  in  London. 
Holland  was  by  all  accounts  a  dear  place— 
and  moreover  he  had  heard  that  the  Dutch 
customs    examination    was    by    no    means 
troublesome.     It  would  be  more  intelligent 
to  complete  practically  his  outfit  here.     He 
took  out  a  pencil,  and  began  feeling  in  his 
coat-pocket  for  a  bit  of  paper.     The  hand 
brought  out,  beside  Lady  Milly's  note  about 
the  Private  View,  three  or  four  unopened 
letters.       He   had   entirely  forgotten    their 
existence — and  stared  at  them  now  in  puz 
zled  indecision.     It  was  not  a  sensible  thing, 
or  a  fair  thing  either,  to  tear  up  and  destroy 
unread  the  message  which  some  one  else  had 
been  at  pains  to  transcribe  for  you.     But  on 
the  other  hand,  these  missives  belonged  to 
440 


GLORIA  MUNDI 

the  stupid  and  intolerable  life  in  Duke 
Street,  with  which  he  had  definitely  parted 
company.  It  might  even  be  said,  in  one 
sense,  that  he  was  not  the  person  to  whom 
they  were  addressed. 

By  some  whimsical  freak  of  the  brain,  he 
suddenly  asked  himself  whether  he  should 
not  go  to  Greece  instead  of  Holland,  and 
enlist  as  a  volunteer  in  the  war  against  the 
Turks.  He  became  on  the  instant  immersed 
in  adventurous  military  speculations.  He 
had  not  fallen  into  the  English  habit  of 
following  the  daily  papers  with  regularity, 
and  he  was  conscious  of  no  responsibility 
whatever  toward  the  events  of  the  world  at 
large,  as  Reuter  and  the  correspondents 
chronicled  them.  Something  of  this  new 
war  in  Thessaly,  however,  he  had  perforce 
read  and  heard.  Of  the  circumstances  and 
politics  surrounding  this  latest  eruption  of 
the  Eastern  Question  he  knew  little  more 
than  would  any  of  the  young  Frenchmen  of 
education  among  whom  he  had  spent  his 
youth.  But  in  an  obscure  way,  he  compre 
hended  that  good  people  in  Western  Europe 
always  sympathized  with  the  Christian  as 
against  the  Moslem.  It  seemed  that  some 
generous-minded  young  Englishmen  were 
already  translating  this  sympathy  into 
action;  somewhere  he  had  seen  an  account 
441 


GLORIA    MUNDI 

of  a  party  of  volunteers  leaving  London  for 
Athens,  and  being  cheered  by  their  friends 
at  the  station.  Now  that  he  thought  of 
it,  the  paper  in  which  he  had  read  the 
report  had  ridiculed  the  affair  as  an  un 
desirable  kind  of  a  joke— but  the  impulse  of 
the  volunteers  seemed  fine  to  him,  none  the 
less. 

There  ought  to  be  some  martial  blood  in 
his  veins ;  the  soldier-figure  of  his  father  rose 
before  him  in  affirmation  of  the  idea. 

But  no — what  nonsense  it  was!  If  ever 
there  had  been  a  youth  bred  and  narrowed 
to  the  walks  of  peace,  he  was  that  young 
person.  He  who  had  never  struck  another 
human  being  in  his  life,  that  he  could 
remember — what  would  such  a  tame  sheep 
be  doing  in  the  open  field,  against  the 
unknown,  ferocious  Osmanli  Turk?  The 
gross  absurdity  of  the  picture  flared  upon 
him,  momentarily  —  and  then  the  whole 
notion  of  armed  adventure  had  vanished 
from  his  mind. 

His  attention  reverted  to  the  letters — and 
now  it  seemed  quite  a  matter  of  course  that 
he  should  open  them.  The  first  three  were 
of  no  importance.  The  fourth  he  regarded 
with  wide-open  eyes,  after  he  had  grasped 
the  identity  of  the  writer.  He  read  it  over 
slowly,  more  than  once : 


442 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

"2yA  ASHLEY  GARDENS,  S.  W.,  Monday. 
"My  Dear  Mr.   Christian  Tower:  I  have 
taken  this  little  place  in  town  for  the  time 
being,  and  I  shall  be  glad  to  see  you  when 
you  are  this  way.     To-morrow,  Tuesday,  is 
a  day  when  I  shall  not  be  at  home  to  other 
people — if  you  have  nothing  better  to  do. 
"Yours  very  sincerely, 

"EDITH  CRESSAGE. " 

Nothing  better  to  do?  Christian's  thoughts 
lingered  rather  blankly  upon  the  phrase— 
until  all  at  once  he  perceived  that  there  could 
not  possibly  be  anything  better  to  do.  He 
rose  with  decision,  hurriedly  gulped  what  re 
mained  of  his  second  pot  of  beer,  paid  his 
bill  and  marched  out  with  the  air  of  a  man 
with  a  mission. 

In  the  hansom,  he  read  the  letter  still 
again,  and  leaned  backward  to  see  as  much 
as  possible  of  himself  in  the  little  mirror  at 
the  side.  His  chin  could  not  be  described  as 
closely  shaven,  and  his  garments  were 
certainly  not  those  of  the  afternoon  caller. 
The  resource  of  stopping  at  Duke  Street 
occurred  to  him — but  no !  that  would  be  too 
foolish.  The  whole  significance  of  the  day 
would  be  abolished,  wiped  out,  by  such  a 
fatuous  step.  And  he  repeated  to  himself 
that  it  was  a  day  of  supreme  significance. 
By  comparison  with  the  proceedings  and 
experiences  of  this  long  and  crowded  day, 

443 


GLORIA  MU1S1DI 

the  rest  of  his  life  seemed  colorless  indeed. 
And  what  was  of  most  importance  in  it,  he 
declared    to  himself,   was   not    its  external 
happenings,  but  the  fine  and  novel  posture 
of  his  liberated  mind  toward  them.     He  was 
for  the  first  time  actually  a  free  man.     His 
enfranchisement    had    not   been    thrown  at 
him  by  outsiders ;  it  proceeded  from  within 
him — the  product  of  his  own  individuality. 
That  was  what  people    would  discern  in 
him  hereafter — a  complete  and  self-sufficient 
personality.     He  would  no  longer  be  pointed 
out  and  classified  as  somebody's  grandson — 
somebody's  cousin   or  grand-nephew.     The 
world  would  recognize   him  as  being  him 
self.     He  felt   assured,   for    example,   upon 
reflection    that    Lady    Cressage   would  not 
dream    of  questioning  the   fashion   of  the 
clothes  in  which  he  came  to  see  her.       She 
would  perceive  at  once  that  he  had  developed 
beyond  the  silly  pupilary  stage  of  subordina 
tion  to  his  coat  and  hat.     She  was  so  clever 
and  sympathetic  a  woman,  he  felt  intuitively, 
that  these  symbols  of  his  emancipated  con 
dition  would  delight  her.     It  was  true,  he 
saw  again  from  the  mirror  that  his  collar 
might  be  a  little  whiter;  his  cuffs,  too,  had 
lost  their  earlier  glow  of  starched  freshness. 
But    these    were    trifles  to   serious  minds. 
And  besides,  was  it  not  all  in  the  family? 
444 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

There  was  a  momentary  block  at  the 
corner  of  Parliament  Street,  and  here  a 
newsboy  thrust  a  fourth  edition  upon  Chris 
tian  with  such  an  effect  of  authority  that  he 
found  a  penny  and  took  the  paper.  It  was 
the  "Westminster  Gazette,"  and  when  he 
had  looked  upon  the  second  page  for  a  pos 
sible  drawing  by  Gould,  and  had  skimmed 
the  column  of  desultory  gossip  on  the  last 
page,  which  always  seemed  to  his  alien  con 
ceptions  of  journalism  to  be  the  kind  of 
matter  he  liked  in  a  newspaper,  he  laid  the 
sheet  on  his  knee,  and  resumed  his  idle 
reverie.  To  his  great  surprise  the  cabman's 
shouts  through  the  roof  were  necessary  to 
awaken  him  at  Ashley  Gardens.  He  shook 
himself,  laughingly  explained  that  he  had 
been  up  all  night  as  he  paid  his  fare,  and 
ascended  the  steps  of  2  7  A,  paper  in  hand. 

The  servant  seemed  prepared  for  his  com 
ing,  for  upon  giving  his  name  in  response  to 
her  somewhat  meaning  inquiry,  she  led  him 
in  at  once.  He  sat  waiting  for  a  few 
moments  in  a  small  and  conveniently  ap 
pointed  drawing-room,  and  then  stood  up,  at 
the  rustle  of  rapid  skirts  which  announced 
Lady  Cressage  in  the  half -open  doorway. 

She  entered  with  outstretched  hand,  and 
a  radiant  welcome  upon  her  face. 

Christian  noted  that  beyond  the  hand  there 

445 


GLORIA   MUND1 

was  a  forearm,  shapely  and  cream-hued,  dis 
closed  by  the  lace  of  her  flowing  sleeve. 
There  were  billows  of  this  lace,  and  of  some 
fragile,  light  fabric  which  seemed  sister  to  it, 
enveloping  the  lady,  yet  her  tall,  graceful 
figure  was  in  some  indefinable  way  molded 
to  the  eye  beneath  them  all.  The  pale  hair 
was  as  he  had  first  seen  it,  loosely  drawn 
across  her  temples;  there  were  warm 
shadows  in  it  which  he  had  not  thought  to 
see.  The  face,  too,  had  some  unexpected 
phase,  here  in  the  subdued  light  of  the 
curtained  room.  There  was  a  sense  of  rosi- 
ness  in  the  rounded  flesh,  a  certain  reposeful 
elation  in  the  regard  of  the  blue  eyes,  which 
put  quite  at  fault  the  image  of  harrowed 
restlessness  and  nerves  he  had  retained  from 
Caermere.  It  was  in  an  illuminating  second 
that  he  saw  all  this,  and  perceived  that  she 
was  very  beautiful,  and  flushed  with  the  deep 
consciousness  that  she  read  his  thoughts  like 
big  print. 

14  It  was  the  greatest  cheek  in  the  world — 
my  summoning  you  like  this,"  she  said,  as 
they  shook  hands.  "Yes — sit  here.  Put  your 
hat  and  paper  on  the  sofa.  This  is  my  only 
reception  room — but  we  might  have  a  little 
more  light." 

She  moved  to  the  window,  to  pull  back 
the  curtains,  and  then  about  the  room, 
446 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

lightly  rearranging  some  of  the  chairs  and 
trinkets — all  with  a  buoyant  daintiness  of 
motion  which  inexpressibly  charmed  him. 
"These  are  not  my  things,  you  know,"  she 
explained  over  her  shoulder.  "I  am  not  try 
ing  in  the  least  to  live  up  to  them,  either.  I 
take  the  place,  furnished,  for  three  months, 
from  the  widow  of  an  Indian  officer.  You 
would  think  she  would  have  some  Indian 
things — but  it  might  have  all  come  direct 
from  Tottenham  Court  Road.  It's  impos 
sible  to  get  the  slightest  sensation  of  being 
at  home,  here.  One  could  really  extract 
more  domesticity  out  of  four  bare  cottage 
walls.  Or  no,  what  am  I  saying?" — she  had 
returned,  and  sinking  into  the  low  chair 
opposite  him,  pointed  her  words  with  a 
frank  smile  into  his  face— "it  is  a  bit  like 
home — to  see  you  here!" 

"I  am  very  glad  to  be  here,"  he  assured 
her,  nodding  his  unfeigned  pleasure.  "But 
it  seemed  as  if  you  would  never  tell  me  I 
might  come." 

' '  Oh,  I  was  worried  to  death,  There  were 
all  sorts  of  things  to  see  about  when  I  first 
came  up,"  she  explained  with  animation. 
"And  I  had  the  feeling  that  I  didn't  want  you 
to  come  till  I  had  smoothed  some  of  my 
wrinkles  out,  and  had  achieved  a  certain  con 
trol  over  my  nerves.  It  was  not  fair  to 

447 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

myself — the  view  you  had  of  me   at   Caer- 
mere." 

The  view  of  her  that  was  afforded  him 
here  brought  a  glow  of  admiration  to  his  eyes. 

"To  think  of  your  being  my  cousin!"  he 
said,  with  some  remote  echo  in  his  own 
voice  of  the  surprise  which  he  recalled  in 
Dicky  Westland's  tone.  It  seemed  wonder 
ful  indeed  as  he  looked  at  her,  and  smiled. 
He  shook  his  head  presently,  in  response 
to  her  question  whether  he  had  any  recent 
news  from  Caermere,  and  continued  to  ob 
serve  her  with  a  rapt  sense  of  the  miraculous 
being  embodied  before  his  eyes. 

"But  the  duke  is  very  low  indeed,"  she 
told  him  in  a  hushed  voice.  *  *  I  had  it  yester 
day  from — from  one  of  the  household. ' ' 

The  tidings  barely  affected  him.  That 
side  of  his  mind  was  still  fast  in  the  rut  of 
last  night's  mutiny. 

"I  have  quite  decided  to  go  away,"  he 
announced,  calmly.  "I  get  no  good  out  of 
the  life  here.  It  does  not  suit  me.  What 
ever  comes  to  me,  why,  that  I  shall  accept, 
but  to  use  it  in  my  own  way,  living  my  own 
life.  Now  that  I  am  a  free  man,  it  aston 
ishes  me  that  I  did  not  rebel  long  ago." 

"Rebel — against  what?"    she  asked  him, 
with  a  kind  of  confidential  candor  which  put 
him  even  more  at  his  ease. 
448 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

11  Oh,  against  everything,"  he  smiled  back 
at  her.  "This  existence  that  they  ar 
ranged  for  me — it  is  like  being  embalmed 
and  wrapped  in  mummy-cloths.  Personally 
I  do  not  survive  a  thousand  years — but  I  am 
but  one  link  in  a  long  chain  of  respectable 
people  who  have  lived  like  that,  without 
living  at  all,  for  many  thousands.  It  is 
being  buried  alive.  Why,  you  will  see  what 
I  mean — a  man  is  a  creature  different  from 
other  human  creatures.  He  has  an  indi 
vidual  nature  of  his  own.  His  tastes,  his 
inclinations,  his  impulses  and  ideas,  are  not 
quite  like  those  of  the  people  about  him.  He 
would  be  happy  to  follow  these  according  to 
his  own  wishes.  But  then  everybody  seizes 
upon  him  and  says:  'No,  you  must  be  and 
do  just  like  the  rest.  You  will  be  noticed 
and  disliked  if  you  indulge  in  even  the 
slightest  variation.  These  are  the  coats  you 
are  to  wear,  and  the  hats  and  caps  and  neck 
ties.  This  is  Duke  Street,  which  you  must 
live  in.  This  is  the  hour  to  get  up,  this  is 
the  hour  to  make  calls,  this  is  the  corner  of 
your  card  to  turn  down,  this  is  the  list  of 
people  at  whose  houses  you  must  dine,  these 
are  your  friends  ready-made  for  you  out  of 
a  book.'  And  truly  what  is  it  all? — utter, 
utter  emptiness.  You  are  really  not  alive 
at  all !  You  have  no  more  personal  sensation 
449 


GLORIA  MUNDI 

of  your  own  existence  than  an  insect.  It  is 
all  this  that  I  rebel  against. ' ' 

She  reclined  a  little  in  her  chair,  and 
covered  him  with  a  meditative  gaze.  "I 
know  the  feeling,  "she  commented  thought 
fully.  "I  used  to  have  sharp  spasms  of  it — 
oh,  ages  ago — whenever  a  shopwoman 
showed  me  something,  and  said,  'This  is  very 
much  worn  just  now,'  or,  'We  are  selling  a 
great  deal  of  this. '  Then  I  would  not  have 
that  particular  thing  if  I  died  for  it.  But 
do  you  really  feel  so  earnestly  about  it?" 
She  put  the  question  in  deference  to  a 
gesture  by  which  he  had  signified  the  inade 
quacy  of  her  comparison.  "Ah,  the  real  life, 
as  you  call  it,  is  a  more  complicated  thing 
than  one  fancies." 

"But  that  is  precisely  the  point,"  with 
vivacity.  "I  have  thought  much  about  that. 
Is  it  not  the  artificial  life  which  is  complicated 
instead?  Do  we  not  confound  the  two?  If 
you  consider  it,  what  can  be  more  simple 
that  the  natural  life  of  a  man?  If  an  astrono 
mer,  for  example,  has  a  difficult  problem  to 
work  out,  he  first  busies  himself  in  discover 
ing  and  putting  aside  all  the  things  which 
seem  to  be  factors  in  it  but  really  are  not. 
One  by  one  he  gets  rid  of  them,  until  at  last 
he  has  the  naked  equation  before  him — and 
then  a  result  is  possible.  But  with  us,  it 
45o 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

seems  that  we  go  quite  the  other  way  about  it. 
We  take  the  problem  of  life — which  is  extra 
ordinarily  simple  to  begin  with — and  we  pile 
upon  it  and  around  it  thousands  of  outside 
rules  and  conventions  and  traditions,  and  we 
confuse  it  with  other  thousands  of  prejudices, 
and  insincerities,  and  old  mistakes  that  no 
one  has  had  the  industry  to  examine — and 
then  we  look  with  embarrassment  at  what 
we  have  done,  and  shake  our  heads,  and  say 
that  the  problem  is  too  hard,  that  it  passes 
the  wisdom  of  man  to  solve  it. ' ' 

"I  wish  you  joy  of  solving  it,"  she 
remarked,  after  another  reflective  survey  of 
his  face.  "I  am  sure  I  wish  some  one  would 
do  it.  But  you  spoke  of  going  away.  How 
would  that  help  matters?" 

The  recurrence  of  the  question  startled 
him.  He  looked  at  her  with  lifted  head,  re 
calling  swiftly  meanwhile  the  tone  in  which 
Frances  had  uttered  those  same  words. 
A  blurred,  imperfect  retrospect  of  the  morn 
ing's  events  and  talks  passed  fleetingly  across 
his  mind — and  its  progress  disquieted  him. 
Some  tokens  of  perturbation  on  his  face 
seemed  to  warn  her,  for  she  went  on  without 
waiting  for  an  answer. 

"I  am  not  surprised  to   find   you   feeling 
like  this,"  she  said.     "It  is  quite  the  effect 
that  I  imagined  London  would  produce  upon 
45i 


GLORIA    MUNDI 

you.  I  have  no  right  to  say  so,  perhaps, 
but  it  seemed  to  me  from  the  start  that  it 
was  being  badly  managed — I  mean  the  way 
you  were  sent  here  by  yourself,  and  given 
nothing  to  do  except  follow  about  where 
Lord  Lingfield  led.  It  is  not  what  I  should 
have  done — but  the  truth  is  that  Emanuel 
knows  nothing  at  all  about  the  characters 
and  temperaments  of  human  beings.  If 
men  agree  with  him,  he  thinks  they  are  good 
men,  and  if  they  disagree  with  him,  they 
are  bad  men — or  at  least  not  worth  thinking 
about  at  all. ' ' 

"I  had  quite  resolved  not  to  commit  myself 
to  his  System,"  Christian  informed  her, 
"even  before  I  made  up  my  mind  to — to 
take  other  steps." 

His  closing  euphemism  seemed  to  attract 
her  attention.  "What  is  it  you  intend  to  do?" 
she  asked  of  him,  softly.  She  sat  upright 
again,  with  an  air  of  friendly  curiosity. 

In  the  face  of  this  query,  he  discovered 
that  his  intentions  were  by  no  means  so  clear 
to  himself  as  they  had  been.  "It  is  still 
rather  in  the  air,"  he  said  vaguely.  "But 
we  talk  always  of  myself !  Tell  me,  instead, 
about  yourself!  It  is  an  infinitely  more 
pleasing  subject.  You  are  here  in  London 
for  only  three  months?  And  you  are  alone 
here?" 

452 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

She  smiled  in  an  indefinite  fashion,  and 
leaned  back  in  her  chair.  "Ought  I  to  have 
a  chaperon?  I  dare  say.  But  there  is  no 
room  for  her  here.  The  flat  accommodates 
just  one  solitary  elderly  lady  and  here  you 
behold  her.  Oh,  I  am  a  hundred  years  old, 
I  assure  you ! ' ' 

He  could  only  wave  his  hand  at  her  in 
genial  deprecation.  "Oh,  who  is  younger 
than  you?"  he  murmured. 

She  sighed.  "By  the  almanac  I  am  four- 
and-twenty,"  she  went  on,  with  a  new  note 
of  gentle  melancholy.  "But  by  my  own 
feelings,  I  seem  to  have  been  left  over  from 
the  reign  of  William  the  Fourth.  And 
really,  it  is  not  my  own  feelings  alone — 
.when  I  go  out,  I  observe  that  very  old  men 
take  me  down  to  dinner,  and  talk  to  me 
precisely  as  if  I  were  a  contemporary  of 
theirs." 

"When  we  were  together  at  Caermere," 
interposed  Christian,  "you  confessed  to  me 
that  you  were  not  happy — and  it  was  my 
great  delight  to  pledge  myself  that  if  ever 
there  was  anything  I  could  do — " 

"Oh,  there  is  nothing  at  all,"  she  inter 
rupted  him  to  declare.  "My  case  will  not 
come  up.  It  has  all  been  settled.  The 
accounts,  or  settlements — or  whatever  you 
call  them — have  been  made  up,  and  my  share 

453 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

of  my  husband's  share  of  his  father's  interest 
in  his  father's  estate  has  been  ascertained. 
I  have  six  hundred  a  year  for  life.  It  is  a 
mild  and  decorous  competence.  I  do  not 
complain.  It  will  keep  a  genteel  roof  over 
my  head  here  in  London,  or  a  small  hoube 
and  a  pony-trap  in  the  country.  It  will  run 
to  a  month  at  a  pension  in  the  cheaper  parts 
of  Switzerland,  or  perhaps  even  to  a  lodging 
and  a  bath-chair  at  Brighton,  when  it  is  not 
quite  the  season.  Oh,  I  shall  get  on  very 
well  indeed — at  all  events,"  she  added  with 
a  touch  of  bitterness,  "much  better  than  I 
deserve  to  do." 

Christian  lifted  his  brows  in  protesting 
inquiry.  "You  always  speak  in  that  tone  of 
yourself!  It  pains  me  to  hear  you.  I  can 
not  think  of  any  one  who  deserves  the  kind 
ness  and  friendly  good  offices  of  fortune 
more  than  you." 

Lady  Cressage  gave  an  uncertain  little 
laugh.  "You  are  too  generous-minded — 
too  innocent.  You  do  not  know.  Me?  My 
dear  friend — I  have  committed  the  unpardon 
able  sin !  I  humiliated  and  degraded  myself 
to  win  a  great  prize  in  the  world's  lottery — 
and  I  did  not  bring  it  off.  That  is  my 
offense.  If  I  had  won  the  trick — why,  they 
would  be  burning  incense  before  me !  But 
I  lost  instead — and  they  leave  me  quite  by 

454 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

myself  to  digest  my  own  disgust.  I  don't 
talk  about  it — I  have  never  said  as  much  to 
any  living  soul  as  I  am  saying  to  you — I 
don't  know  why  I  am  telling  you— 

4 'Is  there  any  one  else  who  would  listen 
with  such  sympathy  ? ' '  Christian  heard  him 
self  interjecting. 

"But   it   is   too   cruel,"    continued   Lady 
Cressage,  "too  shameful  a  story!     I  was  not 
happy  at  home.     It  was  nobody's  fault  in 
particular;  I  don't  know  that  we  were  more 
evil-tempered  and  selfish   among   ourselves 
than  most    other    middle-class    households 
with    four    hundred     a    year,    and     three 
daughters  to  marry  off.     I  was  the  youngest, 
and  I  had  the  sort  of  good  looks  which  were 
in   fashion    at    the    moment,    and   mamma 
worked  very    hard   for   me — pretending   to 
idolize  me  before  people  though  we  yapped 
at  each  other  like  fox-terriers  in  private — 
and  I  was  lucky  in  making  friends — and  so 
I  went  swimming  out  on  the  top  of  the  wave 
that  season,  the  most  envied  poor  fool  of  a 
girl  in  London.     And  when  Cressage  wanted 
to  marry  me — I  was  dizzy  with  the  immen 
sity  of  what  seemed  to  be  offered  me.     My 
parents  were  mad  with  pride  and  ecstasy. 
Everybody  around  me  pretended  a  kind  of 
holy   joy  at  my  triumph.     I  give  you  my 
word ! — never  so  much  as  a  whisper  came  to 

455 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

my  ears  of  any  shadow  of  a  reason  why  I 
should  hesitate — why  I  should  think  a  second 
time!  Do  you  see?  There  was  not  an 
honest  person — a  single  woman  or  a  man 
with  decency  enough  to  warn  an  ignorant 
girl  of  her  danger — within  reach  of  me  any 
where.  They  all  kept  as  silent  as  the  grave 
—with  that  lying  grin  of  congratulation  on 
their  mean  faces — and  they  led  me  to  be 
married  to  the  beast!" 

She  had  sat  erect  in  her  chair  as  she  spoke, 
and  now  she  rose  to  her  feet,  motioning  him 
not  to  get  up  as  she  did  so.  She  took  a  rest 
less  step  or  two,  her  shoulders  trembling 
with  excitement,  and  her  hands  clenched. 
"Ah-h!  I  will  never  forgive  them  the 
longest  day  of  my  life-!"  she  called  out. 

Then,  with  a  determined  shake  of  her  head, 
she  seemed  to  master  herself.  Standing 
before  a  small  mirror  in  the  panel  of  a 
cabinet  against  the  wall,  she  busied  her 
beautiful  hands  in  correcting  the  slight  dis 
order  of  her  hair.  When  she  turned  to  him, 
it  was  with  a  faint,  tremulous  smile  sur 
mounting  the  signs  of  stress  and  agitation 
upon  her  face.  She  sank  into  the  chair 
again,  with  a  long-drawn  breath  of  resigna 
tion. 

"But  it  isn't  nice  to  abuse  the  dead,"  she 
remarked,  striving  after  an  effect  of  judicial 
456 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

fairness  in  her  voice.  "I  didn't  mean  to 
speak  like  that.  And  for  that  matter,  why 
should  I  speak  at  all  of  him?  One  doesn't 
blame  a  wolf  for  man-eating.  You  execrate 
instead  the  people  who  deliberately  throw 
a  helpless  human  being  to  the  wolf.  I  even 
say  to  myself  that  I  have  no  quarrel  with 
Cressage.  He  was  as  God  made  him — if  the 
thought  isn't  blasphemous.  He  was  a  great, 
overgrown,  bullying,  blubbering,  ignorant 
boy,  who  never  got  beyond  the  morals  of 
the  stables  and  kennels,  and  the  standards  of 
taste  of  the  servants'  hall.  One  could  hardly 
call  him  vicious ;  that  is  to  say,  he  did  not 
deliberately  set  out  to  cause  suffering.  He 
did  not  do  anything  on  deliberation.  He 
acted  just  as  his  rudimentary  set  of  bar 
baric  impulses  prompted  him  to  act.  Some 
of  these  impulses  would  have  been  regarded 
as  virtues  in  a  more  intelligent  man.  For 
example,  he  was  wildly,  insanely  jealous  of 
me.  It  took  the  most  impossible  and  vulgar 

forms,  it  is  true,  but  still 

"Oh,  need  we  talk  of  him?"  It  was  with 
almost  a  groan  of  supplication  that  Christian 
stopped  her.  "He  is  too  unpleasant  to 
think  about.  Nothing  that  I  had  heard  of 
him  before  made  me  sorry  that  he  was  dead 
— but  this — it  is  too  painful.  But  now  you 
are  a  free  woman — you  see  your  path  well 
457 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

before  you,  to  travel  as  you  choose.  And 
what  will  you  do?" 

She  sighed  and  threw  up  her  hands  with  a 
gesture  of  contemptuous  indifference. 
"What  does  any  English  lady  with  six  hun 
dred  a  year  do?  Devote  her  energies  to 
seeing  that  she  gets — let  me  see,  what  is  the 
sum? — to  seeing  that  she  gets  twelve  thou 
sand  shillings'  worth  of  respectable  discom 
fort,  and  secures  reasonable  opportunities  for 
making  those  about  her  uncomfortable  also. 
Oh,  I  don't  in  the  least  know  what  I  shall  do. 
The  truth  is,"  she  added,  with  a  sad  smile,  "I 
have  lived  alone  with  my  dislikes  so  long, 
and  I  have  nourished  and  watered  them  so 
carefully,  that  now  they  fill  my  whole  gar 
den.  They  have  quite  choked  out  the  flow 
ers  of  existence — these  thick,  rank,  powerful 
weeds.  And  I  haven't  the  energy — perhaps 
I  haven't  even  the  desire — to  pull  them  up. 
They  seem  appropriate,  somehow — they 
belong  to  the  desolation  that  has  been  made 
of  my  life." 

Christian  bent  forward,  and  made  a  move 
ment  as  if  to  take  one  of  the  hands  which  lay 
dejectedly  in  her  lap.  He  did  not  do  this, 
but  touched  a  projecting  bit  of  lace  upon  one 
of  the  flounces  of  her  gown,  and  twisted  it 
absent-mindedly  in  his  fingers  instead. 

"You  are  still  unhappy!  "he  said  reproach- 
458 


GLORIA   MUND1 

fully,  his  eyes  glowing  with  the  intensity  of 
his  tender  compassion.  "I  do  not  forgive 
myself  for  my  inability  to  be  of  help  to  you. 
It  is  incredible  that  there  is  not  something  I 
can  do." 

"But  you  are  going  awa}T,"  she  reminded 
him,  in  a  soft  monotone.  ' '  You  have  your  own 
unpleasantnesses  to  think  of — and  you  are 
occupied  with  plans  for  rearranging  your  life 
on  new  lines.  I  only  hope  that  you  will  find 
the  happiness  you  are  setting  out  in  search 
of.  But  then  men  can  always  get  what  they 
want,  if  they  are  only  sufficiently  in  earnest 
about  it." 

"It  is  not  entirely  settled  that  I  shall  go 
away,"  said  Christian.  He  twisted  the  lace 
in  the  reverse  direction,  and  hesitated  over 
his  further  words.  "That  was  only  one  of 
several  alternatives.  I  am  clear  only  about 
my  resolve  to  make  a  stand — to  break  away. 
But  if  I  remained  here  in  England — in  Lon 
don?" — He  looked  with  mingled  trepidation 
and  inquiry  into  her  face.  "If  I  did  not  go 
abroad — is  there  anything  I  could  do?" 

She  regarded  with  attentiveness  the  hand 
which  was  playing  havoc  with  her  flounce — 
and  it  straightway  desisted.  She  continued 
to  study  the  little  screwed-up  cone  of  lace, 
in  meditative  silence.  At  last  she  shook  her 
head.  "You  must  not  give  it  another 

459 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

thought,"  she  said,  but  with  no  touch  ot 
dictation  in  her  musing  tone.  Her  eyes 
dwelt  upon  him  with  a  remote  and  ruminat 
ing  gaze.  "I  belong  to  a  past  generation. 
My  chances  in  the  lottery  are  all  exhausted 
—things  of  the  past.  You  must  not  bother 
about  me.  And  I  think  you  ought  to  give 
up  those  ideas  of  yours  about  breaking 
away,  as  you  call  it.  London  hasn't  been 
made  pleasant  for  you,  simply  because  the 
wrong  people  have  gone  the  wrong  way 
about  it  to  arrange  matters  for  you.  But 
there  are  extremely  nice  people  among  the 
set  you  know,  if  you  once  understood  them. 
With  your  position,  you  can  command  any 
kind  of  associations  you  wish  to  have. 
After  it  is  all  said  and  done,  I  think  England 
has  its  full  share  of  cultivated  and  refined 
people  of  intelligence.  I  have  not  seen 
much  of  the  Continent,  but  I  do  not  believe 
that  it  possesses  any  superiority  over  us  in 
that  respect." 

4 'But  in  your  own  case,"  urged  Christian, 
somewhat  hazily;  "you  said  that  there  were 
no  honest  people  about  you  to  warn  you — 
though  you  were  in  the  best  society.  That 
is  my  feeling — that  you  do  not  get  the  truth 
from  them.  They  do  not  lie  to  you — but 
they  are  silent  about  the  truth. ' ' 

"Is  it  different    elsewhere?"    she   asked, 
460 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

gravely.  "Is  not  the  young  girl  sold  every 
where?  Do  you  think  that  marriage  is  a 
more  sacred  and  ethereal  thing  among  the 
great  families  of  France  or  Austria  or  Ger 
many  than  it  is  with  us?  I  have  heard 
differently." 

"Oh,  we  are  all  equally  uncivilized  about 
women,"  he  admitted.  "I  feel  very 
strongly  about  that.  But  you,  who  have 
such  knowledge  and  such  clear  opinions — 
would  you  not  love  to  do  something  to  alter 
this  injustice  to  women?  The  thought  has 
been  much  in  my  mind,  of  late."  He 
paused  to  reflect  in  fleeting  wonderment 
upon  the  fact  that  only  this  morning  he  had 
been  absorbed  in  it.  "And  my  meaning 
is,"  he  stumbled  on,  "there  is  nothing  I 
would  rather  devote  my  life  to  than  the  task 
of  making  existence  easier  and  broader  and 
more  free  for  young  women.  Could  there 
be  any  finer  work  than  that?  I  know  that  it 
appeals  to  you. ' ' 

She  looked  at  him  with  an  element  of 
doubt  in  her  glance.  ' '  Nothing  appeals  very 
much  to  me — and  I'm  afraid  my  sex  least  of 
all.  I  do  not  like  them,  to  tell  the  truth.  I 
never  get  over  the  surprised  disgust  of  wak 
ing  up  in  the  morning  and  finding  that  I  am 
one  of  them.  But  this  is  rather  wandering 
from  the  point,  isn't  it?  I  was  urging  you 
461 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

to  give  over  the  notion  of  making  a  demon 
stration.  You  have  waited  thus  long;  be 
content  to  wait  just  a  little  longer.  My 
private  belief  is  that  the  Duke  will  not  live 
the  week  out. ' ' 

Still,  the  assurance  seemed  to  suggest 
nothing  to  him.  "But  if  he  dies,"  he  pro 
tested,  "how  then  will  I  be  different?  I  am 
lonely — I  am  like  a  forlorn  man  escaped  on 
a  raft  from  a  shipwreck — I  eat  my  heart  out  in 
friendless  solitude.  And  if  I  have  a  great 
title — why,  then  I  shall  be  more  alone  than 
ever.  It  is  that  way  with  such  men — I  have 
seen  that  they  hold  themselves  aloof — and 
others  do  not  come  freely  near  them.  It 
frightens  me — the  thought  of  living  without 
friends.  I  say  to  you  solemnly  that  I  would 
give  it  all — the  position,  the  authority  and 
dignity,  the  estates,  Caermere,  everything — 
for  the  assurance  of  one  warm,  human  heart 
answering  in  every  beat  to  mine!  Has 
friendship  perished  out  of  the  world,  then? 
Or  has  it  never  existed,  except  in  the  books?" 

Her  beauty  had  never  been  so  manifest  to 
him,  as  now  while  he  gazed  at  her,  and  she 
did  not  speak.  There  seemed  the  faint, 
delicate  hint  of  a  tenderness  in  the  classical 
lines  of  the  face  that  he  had  not  seen  before. 
It  was  as  if  his  appeal  had  brought  forth 
some  latent  aptitude  of  romance,  to  mellow 
462 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

the  direct  glance  of  her  eyes,  and  soften  in 
some  subtle  way  the  whole  charm  of  her 
presence.  A  new  magic  was  visible  in  her 
loveliness — and  the  sense  that  his  words  had 
conjured  it  into  being  thrilled  him  with  a 
wistful  pride.  No  woman  had  thus  moved 
him  heretofore.  The  perception  that  she 
was  plastic  to  his  mental  touch — that  this 
flower-like  marvel  of  comeliness  and  grace, 
of  exquisite  tastes  and  pure  dignity  of  soul, 
could  be  swayed  by  his  suggestion,  would 
vibrate  at  the  tone  of  his  voice — awed  him 
as  if  he  were  confronted  by  a  miracle.  His 
breath  came  and  went  under  a  dull  con 
sciousness  of  pain — which  was  yet  more  like 
pleasure.  A  bell  sounded  somewhere  within 
the  house,  and  its  brief  crystal  resonance 
seemed  somehow  to  clarify  the  ferment  of 
his  thoughts.  All  at  once,  as  by  the  flood 
ing  of  sunlight  into  a  darkened  labyrinth,  his 
mind  was  clear  to  him.  He  knew  what  he 
wanted — nay,  what  all  the  years  had  been 
leading  him  up  to  desire. 

With  his  gaze  maintained  upon  her  face — 
timidly  yet  with  rapturous  intentness,  as  if 
fearful  of  breaking  the  spell — he  rose  to  his 
feet,  and  stood  over  her.  A  confusion  of 
unspoken  words  trembled  on  his  lips,  as  her 
slow  glance  lifted  itself  to  his. 

"It  was  like  the  pleasantry  of  a  beautiful, 
463 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

roguish  little  girl" — he  began,  smiling  nerv 
ously  down  at  her — "your  saying  that  you 
belonged  to  a  generation  earlier  than  mine. 
Do  you  think  I  do  not  know  my  generation? 
And  am  I  blind,  that  I  do  not  see  what  is 
most  precious  in  it?  This  is  what 

An  extraordinary  outburst  of  disputing 
voices,  in  the  little  hallway  close  at  hand, 
broke  in  upon  his  words.  He  stopped, 
stared  inquiringly  at  Lady  Cressage,  and 
beheld  her  rise,  frowning  and  hard-eyed, 
and  step  toward  the  door.  A  vague  sense  of 
the  familiar  came  to  him  from  the  louder 
of  the  accents  outside. 

The  door  was  opened,  and  the  domestic, 
red-faced,  and  spluttering  with  wrath,  began 
some  stammered  explanation  to  her  mis 
tress.  What  she  sought  to  say  did  not 
appear,  for  on  the  instant  the  door  was 
pushed  farther  back,  and  a  veiled  lady  took 
up  her  energetic  stand  upon  the  threshold. 

"Don't  blame  her,"  this  lady  cried,  in 
high,  rapid  tones.  "I  forced  my  way  in — 
something  told  me  that  you  were  at  home. 
And  when  you  hear  my  news " 

"Oh,  since  you  are  here" — Lady  Cres 
sage  began,  coldly.  "But,  really,  Mrs. 
Torr— 

"Oh,  no— call  me  Cora!"  the  other  inter 
rupted,  vivaciously. 

464 


GLORIA    MUNDI 

She  went  further,  and  bustling  her  arms 
against  Edith's  shoulders,  purported  to  kiss 
her  on  both  cheeks.  Then,  drawing  back 
her  head,  she  went  on:  "My  dear,  the  duke 
died  at  two  this  morning!  It's  in  all  the 
papers.  But  what  isn't  in  any  of  the  papers 
is  that  the  heir  is  missing.  It's  a  very 
curious  story.  Mr.  Westland  here" — by  her 
gesture  it  seemed  that  Dicky  was  behind  her 
in  the  hallway — "went  to  Duke  Street  this 
noon,  and  found  Christian's  man  in  great 
alarm.  The  youngster  had  bolted,  leaving 
a  note  saying  merely  that  he  was  called 
away.  Mr.  Westland  then  hunted  me  up, 
and  we  started  out,  for  I  had  a  kind  of  clue, 
don't  you  see.  I  knew  where  he  was  at  ten 
o'clock  this  forenoon — and  we  drove  to 
Arundel  Street,  and  there  we  found ' ' 

Christian  hurriedly  stepped  forward. 
"Oh,  I  think  you  may  take  it  that  I  am  not 
lost, ' '  he  called  out,  revealing  himself  to  the 
astonished  Cora.  For  the  moment  the  chief 
thing  in  his  mind  was  satisfaction  at  having 
interrupted  her  disclosures  about  Arundel 
Street. 

Then,  as  other  thoughts  crowded  in  upon 
him,  he  straightened  his  shoulders  and  lifted 
his  chin.  "It's  all  right,"  he  said,  with  a 
reassuring  wave  of  the  hand  toward  the 
womenfolk  of  his  family. 
465 


PART   IV 


CHAPTER   XXII 

On  the  morning  of  the  funeral,  six  days 
later,  Christian  rose  very  early,  and  took 
coffee  in  his  library  shortly  after  seven. 
Then,  lighting  a  cigarette,  he  resumed  work 
upon  several  drawers  full  of  papers,  open  on 
the  big  table,  where  it  had  been  left  off  the 
previous  evening.  The  details  of  the  task 
seemed  already  familiar  to  him.  He 
scanned  one  document  after  another  with  an 
informed  eye,  and  put  it  in  its  proper  pile 
without  hesitation.  He  made  notes  sug 
gested  by  the  contents  of  each,  on  the  pad 
before  him,  with  a  quill  pen  and  corrected 
the  vagaries  of  this  unaccustomed  imple 
ment,  in  the  matter  of  blots  and  inadequate 
lines,  with  painstaking  patience.  There 
were  steel  nibs  in  abundance,  and  two  gold 
stylographic  pens,  but  he  clung  resolutely  to 
the  embarrassing  feather. 

After  a  time  he  rested  from  his  labors,  and 
rang  the  bell  beside  his  desk;  almost  upon 
467 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

the  instant  Falkner  appeared  in  the  doorway. 

"If  Mr.  Westland  is  up,"  said  Christian, 
"you  may  ask  him  to  join  me  here." 

"Yes,  Your  Grace,"  the  smooth-voiced, 
soft-mannered  man  replied,  and  vanished. 

The  young  duke  rose,  yawned  slightly  and 
moved  to  the  window  nearest  him.  It 
opened,  upon  examination,  and  he  stepped 
out  on  a  narrow  balcony  of  stone  which 
skirted  the  front  of  the  square  tower  he  had 
quitted.  The  outlook  seemed  to  be  to  the 
northeast,  for  a  patch  of  sunshine  lay  upon 
the  outer  edge  of  the  balcony  at  the  right. 
Breathing  in  delightedly  the  fresh  May- 
morning  air,  he  gazed  upon  the  bold  pros 
pect  of  hills  receding  in  lifted  terraces  high 
against  the  remote  sky-line.  He  had  not 
seen  just  this  view  from  Caermere  before — 
and  he  said  to  himself  that  it  was  finer  than 
all  the  others.  Above  each  lateral  stretch  of 
purplish-gray  granite,  to  the  farthest  dis 
tance,  there  ran  a  band  of  cool  green  foliage 
—the  inexpressibly  tender  green  of  young 
birch  trees;  their  thin,  chalk- white  stems 
were  revealed  in  delicate  tracery  against 
indefinable  sylvan  shadows. 

Through  the  early  stillness,  he  could  hear 
the  faint  murmur  of  the  Devor,  gurgling  in 
the  depths  of  the  ravine  between  him  and 
the  nearest  hill.  ' ' To-morrow, ' '  he  thought, 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

Ciwill  begin  the  true  life!  All  this  will  be 
my  home — mine!  mine!  and  before  any 
body  is  up  in  the  morning  I  will  be  down 
where  that  river  of  black  water  runs,  and 
fish  in  the  deep  pools  for  trout. ' ' 

Some  one  touched  his  elbow.  He  turned 
with  a  quick  nod  and  smile  to  greet  Dicky 
Westland.  "I  am  up  ages  before  you,  you 
see,"  he  said  genially.  "It  was  barely  day 
light  when  I  woke — and  I  suffered  tortures 
trying  to  remain  in  bed  even  till  six.  Oh, 
this  is  wonderful  out  here!" 

"Awfully  jolly  place,  all  round,"  com 
mented  Dicky.  He  blinked  to  exorcise  the 
spirit  of  sleep  and  gazed  at  the  prospect 
with  determined  enthusiasm.  "I  haven't 
looked  about  much,  but  I've  found  out  one 
thing  already.  There's  a  ghost  in  my  room 
— and  I  think  he  must  have  been  a  pro 
fessional  pedestrian  in  life. ' ' 

' '  Splendid ! ' '  cried  Christian,  gaily.  ' '  Have 
you  had  coffee — or  it  is  tea  you  people 
drink,  isn't  it?  Then  shall  we  get  to  work? 
I  want  the  papers  out  of  the  way  before 
Emanuel  comes.  They  will  all  be  here 
between  nine  and  ten.  I  wanted  to  send 
carriages  to  Craven  Arms,  but  it  seemed 
there  were  not  horses  enough,  so  hired  traps 
are  to  be  brought  up  from  the  station. ' ' 

"Do  you  know  who  are  coming?" 
469 


GLORIA  MUNDI 

"Lord  Julius,  and  Emanuel  and  his  wife; 
the  captain  and  his  wife  and  brother ;  Lord 
Chobham,  and  Lord  Ling-field — I  don't 
know  if  any  of  their  women  will  come — and 
Lady  Cressage.  Then  there  are  some 
solicitors,  and  perhaps  some  old  acquaint 
ances  of  my  grandfather's.  At  all  events, 
Well  don  has  ordered  four  carriages  and  a 
break.  There  is  to  be  breakfast  at  ten,  and 
I  shall  be  glad  when  it  is  all  over — when 
everything  is  over.  Do  you  know? — I  have 
never  been  to  a  funeral  in  my  life — and  I 
rather  funk  it." 

"Oh,  they're  not  so  bad  as  you  always 
think  they're  going  to  be,"  said  the  secre 
tary,  consolingly.  "The  main  thing  is  the 
gloves.  I  never  could  understand  it — but 
black  gloves  are  invariably  about  two  sizes 
smaller  than  ordinary  colors.  You  want  to 
look  out  for  that.  But  I  dare  say  your  man 
is  up  to  the  trick — he  looks  a  knowing  party, 
does  Falkner. " 

"I  fancy  I  shall  give  him  back  to  Eman 
uel,"  remarked  Christian,  thoughtfully. 
"He  is  an  excellent  servant,  but  he  reminds 
me  too  much  of  Duke  Street.  Did  you 
notice  the  old  butler  yesterday  afternoon? — 
he  stood  at  the  head  of  the  steps  to  meet  us 
— that  is  old  Barlow.  I  have  a  great  affection 
for  him.  I  shall  have  him  valet  me,  I  think. ' ' 
470 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

"Isn't  he  rather  venerable  for  the  job?" 
suggested  the  other.  "And  wouldn't  it  be 
rather  a  come-down  for  a  head  butler? 
They're  awfully  keen  about  their  distinc 
tions  among  themselves,  you  know. ' ' 

Christian  smiled  with  placidity.  "I  think 
that  the  man  whom  I  pick  out  to  be  nearest 
me  will  feel  that  he  has  the  best  place  in  the 
household.  I  shall  be  very  much  surprised 
indeed  if  that  isn't  Barlow's  view.  And  of 
course  he  will  have  his  subordinates.  But 
now  let  us  take  Welldon 's  statement  for  the 
last  half  of  '95,  and  the  two  halves  of  '96. 
Then  we  can  get  to  the  mine.  Unless  I  am 
greatly  mistaken,  that  is  most  important.  I 
find  that  the  mining  company's  lease  falls  in 
early  next  year.  And  won't  you  ring  the  bell 
and  have  Welldon  sent  up  when  he  comes?" 

Upon  mature  reflection  Christian  decided 
not  to  descend  to  meet  his  guests  at  breakfast. 
When  he  had  dismissed  the  estate  agent, 
Welldon,  after  a  prolonged  and  very  compre 
hensive  interview,  he  announced  this 
decision  to  Westland.  "You  must  go  down 
and  receive  them  in  my  place, ' '  he  said. 

"I  will  say  that  you  have  a  cold,"  sug 
gested  Dicky. 

"By  no  means,"  returned  Christian, 
promptly. 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

"It  is  not  necessary  to  enter  into  details. 
You  receive  them — that  is  all.  I  have 
spoken  with  Barlow ;  he  knows  what  to  do 
with  them  in  the  matter  of  rooms  and  so  on. 
I  am  breakfasting  here.  And  afterward — 
say  at  eleven  o'clock — I  will  see  some  of 
them  here.  There  is  an  hour  to  spare  then, 
before  we  go  to  the  church.  I  am  not  clear 
about  this — which  ones  to  see  first.  There 
is  that  stupid  reading  of  the  will  after  we 
get  back " 

"By  George!  do  they  do  that  still?"  inter 
rupted  Dicky.  *  *  I  know  they  did  in  Trollope 
and  George  Eliot — but  I  thought  it  had  gone 
out." 

"It  is  kept  up  in  old  families,"  replied 
Christian,  simply.  "In  this  case  it  is  a  pure 
formality,  of  course.  There  is  no  mystery 
whatever.  The  will  was  made  in  1859, 
after  the  entail  was  broken,  and  merely 
bequeaths  everything  in  general  terms  to  the 
heir-at-law.  My  grandfather  covenanted,  at 
the  same  time,  to  Lord  Julius  to  make  no 
subsequent  will  save  by  his  advice  and  con 
sent — so  that  there  can  be  no  complications 
of  any  kind.  I  am  thinking  whether  it 
would  be  better  to  see  Lord  Julius  and 
Emanuel  before  the  reading  of  this  will  or 
after.  Really  it  makes  no  difference — per 
haps  it  is  better  to  get  it  over  with.  Yes — 
472 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

say  to  them  that  I  beg  they  will  come  to  me 
here  at  eleven.  You  might  bring  them  up 
and  then  leave  us  together — or  no,  they 
know  the  way.  Let  them  come  up  by  them 
selves. " 

Through  the  open  window  there  came  the 
grinding  sound  of  wheels  upon  the  gravel  of 
the  drive,  around  at  the  east  front.  At  a 
gesture  from  the  other,  Dicky  hurried  away. 

Left  to  himself,  Christian  wandered  again 
to  the  casement,  and  regarded  the  spacious 
view  with  renewed  interest.  Falkner 
entered  presently,  bearing  a  large  tray,  and 
spread  some  covered  dishes  upon  a  cloth  on 
the  library  table. 

"How  many  carriages  have  come?"  the 
master  asked  from  his  place  at  the  window. 

"Four,  Your  Grace — and  a  break  with 
some  wreaths  and  Lord  Chobham's  man  and 
a  maid — I  think  it  is  Lady  Cressage's  maid. " 

"Who  has  come — outside  the  family?" 

"Three  gentlemen,  Your  Grace — one  of 
them  is  Mr.  Soman,  Barlow  thinks  they 
are  all  solicitors. ' ' 

Christian  mused  briefly  upon  the  presence 
of  Lord  Julius's  man  of  business.  Since 
that  first  evening  of  his  on  English  soil,  at 
Brighton,  he  had  not  seen  this  Mr.  Soman. 
He  remembered  nothing  of  him,  indeed, 
save  his  green  eyes.  And  now  that  he 
473 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

thought  of  it,  even  this  was  not  a  personal 
recollection.  It  was  the  remark  of  the  girl 
on  the  boat,  about  his  having  green  eyes, 
which  stuck  in  his  memory.  He  smiled,  as 
he  looked  idly  out  on  the  hills. 

The  girl  on  the  boat!  Was  it  not  strange 
that  his  mind  should  have  applied  to  her 
this  distant  and  chilling  designation?  Only 
a  few  days  ago — it  would  not  be  a  week  till 
to-morrow— she  had  seemed  to  him  the  most 
important  person  in  the  world.  A  vision  of 
his  future  had  possessed  him,  in  which  she 
alone  had  a  definite  share.  How  remote  it 
seemed — and  how  curious! 

He  recalled,  quite  impersonally,  what  he 
had  heard  in  one  way  or  another  about  her 
family.  Her  father  was  some  sort  of  under 
ling  in  the  general  post  office — a  clerk  or 
accountant,  or  something  of  the  kind.  There 
was  a  son — of  course,  that  would  be  the 
brother  Cora  had  spoken  of— and  the  ambi 
tion  of  the  family  had  expended  itself  in 
sending  this  boy  to  a  public  school,  and  to 
the  university.  The  family  had  made  great 
sacrifices  to  do  this — and  apparently  these 
had  been  wasted.  He  had  the  distinct 
impression  of  having  been  told  that  the  son 
was  a  worthless  fellow.  How  often  that 
occurred  in  England — that  everything  was 
done  for  the  son,  and  nothing  at  all  for  the 
474 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

daughters!  Then  in  fairness  he  reflected 
that  it  was  even  worse  in  France.  Yes,  but 
somehow  Frenchwomen  had  a  talent  for 
doing  for  themselves.  They  were  cleverer 
than  their  brothers — more  helpful,  resource 
ful — in  spite  of  the  fact  that  the  brothers  had 
monopolized  the  advantages.  Images  of 
capable,  managing  Frenchwomen  he  had 
known  rose  before  his  mind's  eye;  he  saw 
them  again  accomplishing  wonders  of  work, 
diligent,  wise,  sensible,  understanding 
everything  that  was  said  or  done.  Yet, 
oddly  enough,  these  very  paragons  of 
feminine  capacity  had  a  fatal  unfeminine 
defect;  they  did  not  know  how  to  bring  up 
their  sons.  Upon  that  side  they  were 
incredibly  weak  and  silly;  it  was  impossible 
to  prevent  their  making  pampered  fools  of 
their  boys. 

Suddenly  his  vagrant  fancies  were  concen 
trated  upon  the  question  of  how  Frances 
Bailey  would  bring  up  a  boy — a  son  of  her 
own.  It  was  an  absurd  query  to  have  raised 
itself  in  his  mind — and  he  put  it  away  from 
him  with  promptitude.  There  remained, 
however,  a  kind  of  mental  protest  lodged  on 
her  behalf  among  his  thoughts.  He  per 
ceived  that  in  his  ruminations  he  had  done 
her  an  injustice.  She  was  not  inferior  in 
capability  or  courage  to  any  of  the  self- 
475 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

sufficient  Frenchwomen  he  had  been  think 
ing  of,  and  in  the  matter  of  intellectual 
attainments  was  she  not  immeasurably 
superior  to  them  all?  The  translucent  calm 
of  her  mind — penetrating,  far-reaching, 
equable  as  the  starlight — how  queer  that  it 
should  be  coupled  with  such  a  bad  temper ! 
She  always  quarreled  with  him,  and  bullied 
him,  when  they  were  together.  Even 
when  she  was  exhibiting  to  him  the  sunniest 
aspects  of  her  mood,  there  was  always  a 
latent  defiance  of  him  underneath,  ready 
to  spring  forth  at  a  word.  He  remembered 
how,  at  the  close  of  their  first  meeting,  she 
had  refused  to  tell  him  her  name.  He  saw 
now  that  this  obstinacy  of  hers  had  annoyed 
him  more  than  he  had  imagined.  For  an 
instant  it  assumed  almost  the  character  of  a 
grievance — but  then  his  attention  fastened 
itself  at  random  upon  the  remarkable  fact 
that  he  had  seen  her  only  twice  in  his  life. 
Upon  reflection,  this  did  seem  very  strange 
indeed.  But  it  was  the  fact — and  in  the 
process  of  readjusting  his  impressions  of  the 
past  six  months  to  fit  with  it,  the  figure  of 
her  receded  in  his  mind,  grew  less  as  she 
moved  away  under  a  canopy  of  dull  yellow 
ish-green,  which  vaguely  identified  itself 
with  the  trees  on  the  Embankment.  She 
dwindled  thus  till  he  thought  of  her  again, 
476 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

with  a  dim  impulse  of  insistence  upon  the 
phrase,  as  the  girl  on  the  boat.  The  transi 
tion  to  thoughts  of  other  things  gave  his 
mind  no  sort  of  trouble. 

He  pondered  some  of  these  other  things — 
formlessly  and  light-heartedly — while  he 
stood  at  the  library  table,  and  picked  morsels 
here  and  there  from  the  dishes  laid  for  him. 
His  absence  of  appetite  he  referred  tacitly 
to  the  warmth  of  the  day,  as  it  was  sunnily 
developing  itself  outside.  Here  on  this 
shaded  side  of  the  castle,  it  was  cool  enough, 
but  there  was  the  languor  of  spring  in  the 
air.  He  scrutinized  this  new  library  of  his 
afresh.  Until  Barlow  had  opened  it  for 
him,  shortly  after  his  arrival  yesterday,  it 
could  not  have  been  used  for  years.  Most 
of  its  appointments  had  a  very  ancient  look ; 
no  doubt  they  must  date  back  at  least  to  the 
seventh  Duke's  time.  It  was  incredible 
that  his  grandfather,  the  eighth  Duke, 
should  have  been  inspired  to  furnish  a 
library.  There  were  many  shelves  of  appar 
ently  very  old  books  as  well,  but  there  was 
also  a  vast  deal  of  later  rubbish — stock  and 
sporting  annuals,  veterinary  treatises, 
county  directories  and  the  like — which  he 
would  lose  no  time  in  putting  out.  He  saw 
already  how  delightful  a  room  could  be 
made  of  it.  It  had  the  crowning  merit  of 
477 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

being  connected  with  the  suite  of  apartments 
he  had  chosen  for  his  own.  From  the  door 
at  the  side,  opposite  the  fine  old  fireplace, 
one  entered  the  antechamber  to  his  dressing- 
room.  This  gave  to  the  library  an  intimate 
character,  upon  which  he  reflected  with 
pleasure.  Here  he  would  come,  secure 
from  interruption,  and  spend  among  his 
books  the  choicest  and  most  fruitful  hours  of 
his  leisure.  It  was  plain  to  him  that  hence 
forth  he  would  do  a  great  deal  of  reading, 
and  perhaps — why  not? — of  writing  too. 

There  was  a  rap  upon  the  door,  and  then 
Falkner,  opening  it,  announced  Lord  Julius 
and  his  son.  They  came  in  together, 
diffusing  an  impalpable  effect  of  constraint. 
The  elder  man  seemed  in  Christian's  eyes 
bigger  than  ever;  his  white  beard  spread 
over  the  broad  chest  like  a  vine  run  wild. 
Emanuel,  who  lapsed  in  the  wake  of  his 
father,  was  unexpectedly  small  by  com 
parison.  The  shadows,  where  the  two  stood, 
emphasized  the  angular  peculiarities  of  his 
bald  head.  His  thin  face  took  an  effect  of 
sallow  pallor  from  his  black  clothes.  Al 
ready  he  had  his  black  gloves  in  his  hands. 

Christian  stepped  forward  to  meet  them — 

and  was  suddenly  conscious  of  the  necessity 

for  an  apology.     "I  did  not  come  down,"  he 

murmured,  as  he  shook  hands  with  a  grave 

478 


GLORIA    MUNDI 

smile — "I  arnnot  quite  master  of  myself  yet. 
It  is  still  strange  to  me.  But  come  to  the 
window,  and  let  us  sit  down." 

They  followed  him,  and  took  the  chairs 
he  pushed  out  for  them.  He  perched  him 
self  on  the  corner  of  the  big-  table,  and 
lightly  stroked  the  glazed  boot  of  the  foot 
which  was  not  on  the  floor.  "I  am  glad  to 
hear  that  Kathleen  has  come,"  he  said  to 
his  cousin.  "I  hope  she  is  very  well." 

' '  Extremely  so, ' '  replied  Emanuel.  Then, 
upon  reflection,  he  added,  "We  had  hoped 
that  you  would  come  to  us,  on  your  way 
down  from  London. " 

"There  was  so  much  to  do  in  town,"  ex 
plained  Christian,  hazily.  "My  grand 
father's  lawyers  came  up  at  once  from 
Shrewsbury,  and  it  was  necessary  to  see  a 
good  deal  of  them — and  then  there  were  the 
tailors  and  outfitters.  It  was  all  I  could  do 
to  get  away  yesterday  morning.  And  of 
course — by  that  time  I  was  needed  here." 
He  turned  to  the  other.  "And  you  are 
very  well,  Uncle  Julius?" 

"I  am  well,"  said  the  elder  man,  with 
what  Christian  suspected  for  the  instant  to 
be  significant  brevity.  The  father  and  son 
had  exchanged  a  look,  as  well,  which  seemed 
to  have  a  meaning  beyond  his  comprehension. 
But  then  he  forgot  these  momentary  doubts 
479 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

in  the  interest  of  the  discovery  that  there 
were  tears  in  his  great-uncle's  eyes. 

Lord  Julius  unaffectedly  got  out  a  hand 
kerchief,  and  wiped  them  away.  He  looked 
up  at  the  young  man  as  through  a  mist. 
"I  never  dreamed  that  I  should  feel  it  so 
much,"  he  said,  huskily.  "I  am  amazed  at 
myself — and  then  ashamed  at  my  amaze 
ment — but  Kit's  death  has  somehow  put  me 
about  and  upset  me  to  a  tremendous  extent. 
There  was  thirteen  years  between  us — but 
when  you  get  to  be  an  old  man,  that  seems 
no  more  than  as  many  weeks.  And  Eman- 
uel" — he  addressed  his  son  with  the 
solemnity  befitting  a  revelation — "I  am  an 
old  man." 

Emanuel  frowned  a  little  in  his  abstracted 
fashion.  "You  are  less  old  than  any  other 
man  of  your  years  in  England,"  he  protested. 

Christian,  listening,  somehow  found  no 
conviction  in  these  reassuring  words.  It 
dawned  upon  him  suddenly  that  Lord  Julius 
had  in  truth  aged  a  great  deal.  The  per 
ception  of  this  disarranged  the  speech  he 
had  in  his  mind. 

"There  are  a  thousand  things  to  be  talked 
over,"  he  began,  with  an  eye  upon  Eman 
uel,  "but  I  do  not  know  if  this  is  quite  the 
opportune  time.  I  wished  to  lose  no  time  in 
seeing  you  both,  of  course — but  you  will  not 
480 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

be  hurrying  away.  No  doubt  there  will  be 
a  better  opportunity." 

"I  don't  think  it  will  be  found  that  there 
is  so  very  much  to  say, ' '  remarked  Eman- 
uel.  A  gentle  but  persistent  melancholy 
seemed  to  pervade  his  tone. 

"There  is  the  complication" — Christian 
began  again,  and  hesitated.  "That  is  to  say 
— you  know  even  better  and  more  fully  than 
I  do,  to  what  a  great  extent  I  am  in  your 
hands.  And  there  the  complication,  as  I 
said,  arises.  I  have  been  working  very  hard 
on  the  figures — with  the  lawyers  in  London, 
and  here  since  I  arrived — but  before  we 
touch  those  at  all,  I  ought  to  tell  you 
frankly,  Emanuel :  I  do  not  see  my  way  to 
meeting  the  conditions  which  you  suggested 
to  me  last  autumn,  when  we  met  first." 

Emanuel  seemed  in  no  wise  perturbed  by 
the  announcement.  His  nervous  face  main 
tained  its  unmoved  gravity.  "It  was  never 
anything  more  than  a  pious  hope  that  you 
would,"  he  commented.  "I  may  add,"  he 
went  on,  "that  even  this  hope  cannot  be  said 
to  have  survived  your  first  visit.  Other 
wise,  I  should  have  tried  to  have  you  see 
London  under  different  auspices — through 
different  eyes. ' ' 

The  calmness  with  which  the  decision  he 
had  regarded  as  so  momentous  met  accept- 
481 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

ance  disconcerted  Christian.  He  had 
mentally  prepared  for  the  defense  of  his 
hostile  attitude  toward  the  System — and,  lo ! 
not  a  syllable  of  challenge  was  forthcoming. 

"But  there  remains,  all  the  same,  the 
principal  difficulty,"  he  said,  thinking  hard 
upon  his  words.  "It  does  not  lessen  my 
obligations  to  you  as  my  chief  creditors." 
He  looked  from  one  to  the  other,  as  if  in 
uncertainty  as  to  which  was  the  master  mind. 
"You  have  both  been  very  open  with  me. 
You  have  told^  me  why  it  was  that  you 
devoted  a  large  fortune  to  buying  up  the 
mortgages  on  the  estate  which  is  now  mine 
— and  to  lending  always  more  money  upon 
it — until  now  the  interest  eats  up  the  income 
like  a  visitation  of  locusts.  But  my  knowl 
edge  of  the  motives  does  not  help  me.  And 
you  must  not  think,  either,"  his  confidence 
was  returning  now,  and  with  it  a  better  con 
trol  over  his  phrases — "that  I  am  begging 
for  help.  I  look  the  situation  in  the  face, 
and  I  do  not  feel  that  I  am  afraid  of  it.  I 
see  already  many  ways  in  which  I  can  make  a 
better  fight  of  it  than  my  grandfather  made. ' ' 

Lord  Julius  held  up  a  hand.  "Is  there 
not  a  misconception  there?"  he  asked,  pleas 
antly  enough.  "A  fight  involves  antagonists 
— and  I  intervened  in  poor  Kit's  affairs  as  a 
protector,  not  as  an  assailant." 
483 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

Christian  stood  erect,  and  knitted  his 
brows  in  puzzled  thought  upon  both  the 
manner  and  the  matter  of  these  words. 

"But  it  is  still  the  same,"  he  persisted. 
"You  were  his  good  friend— as  I  know  you 
are  mine— or  hope  very  sincerely  that  you 
are— but  none   the  less  you  were  his  over 
whelmingly   big   creditor,   as   now  you   are 
mine.     If  one  is  greatly  in  debt,  then  one 
struggles  to  get  out.     It  is  in  that  sense  that 
I  meant  the  word  'fight'     And,  to  repeat,  I 
see  many  ways  of  making  progress.     I  find 
that   Welldon  is  not   exclusively   my  man. 
He  is  the  agent  of  three  other  estates  as 
well,  because  we  could  not  pay  him  enough 
here  for  all  of  his  services.     That  I  will  alter 
at  once.     I  find  that  we  have  no  mineral 
bailiff.     The  company  at  Coalbrook  has  paid 
such  royalties  as  it  pleased,  without  check 
of  any  sort.     We  have  the  right  to  examine 
their  books,  but  it  has  never  been  exercised. 
Next  week  my  secretary  and  Welldon  go  to 
Coalbrook.     I  find  that  the  company's  lease 
of  twenty-one  years  expires  next  February. 
Eh  bien!     It  will  be  strange  if  I  do  not  get 
ten  thousand  pounds  hereafter,  where  less 
than  four  has  come  in  hitherto.     My  lawyers 
already  know  of  capitalists  who  desire  to  bid 
for   the   new    lease— and    the    estimate    of 
increase  is  theirs,  not  mine.     But  these  are 
483 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

details.  I  mention  them  to  you  only  to 
show  you  that  I  am  not  afraid.  But  anxious, 
I  do  not  deny  that  I  am.  I  have  not  been 
bred  to  these  things — and  I  may  easily  make 
mistakes.  It  would  take  a  great  load  off  my 
mind  if — if,  in  some  measure,  you  would  be 
my  advisers  as  well  as  my  creditors." 

*  *  Why  should  you  ever  have  doubted  that  ? ' ' 
asked  Emanuel,  in  a  tone  of  somber  kindli 
ness. 

"Ah,  but  I  do  not  mean  advice  about  the 
management  of  the  estate,"  put  in  Chris 
tian,  with  an  over-eager  instinct  of  self- 
defense.  "I  do  not  shrink  from  taking  that 
completely  on  my  own  shoulders.  I  would 
not  trouble  you  with  anything  of  that  sort. 
But  of  larger  matters " 

"There  is  one  large  matter,"  interrupted 
Lord  Julius,  speaking  with  great  delibera 
tion,  "which  I  find  outweighing  all  others  in 
my  mind.  It  is  not  new  to  my  mind — but 
to-day  it  pushes  everything  else  aside.  It 
is  the  thought  of  the  family  itself.  I  have 
told  you  this  before — let  me  say  it  to  you 
again.  Everything  that  I  have  done — every 
penny  that  I  have  laid  out — has  been  with 
this  one  end  in  view — the  family.  Yet  this 
morning  I  have  been  thinking  of  it — and  I 
am  frightened.  While  poor  old  Kit  lingered 
along,  it  was  not  so  easy  to  grasp  it,  somehow 
484 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

— but  his  going  off  makes  it  glaring.  There 
are  too  few  of  us.  I  am  alone  in  my  genera 
tion — and  so  is  Emanuel  in  his — and  so  are 
you  in  yours,  save  for  those  rowdy  simple 
tons  Eddy  and  Gus.  And  beyond  you,  there 
is  only  that  little  girl  baby  of  Cora  Bayard's! 
I  want  you  to  marry,  Christian.  I  want  to 
see  sons  of  yours  growing  up  here  at 
Caermere — hearty,  fine  boys  to  carry  the 
name  of  Torr  along.  That  I  am  really  in 
earnest  about.  By  comparison  with  it, 
nothing  else  on  earth  matters — for  us." 

"Oh,  I  shall  marry,"  Christian  replied,  in 
smiling  seriousness'.  "Of  course,  that  is  the 
obvious  thing  to  be  done.  And  now" — he 
looked  at  his  watch — "it  is  time  for  me  to 
dress.  It  is  arranged  that  you  and  Emanuel 
and  Kathleen  drive  to  the  church  in  the  car 
riage  with  me.  It  is  not  quite  orthodox 
precedence,  I  know,  but  I  could  not  bear  to 
—to  have  it  otherwise.  And  we  will  think 
no  more  about  those  other  matters  until  to 
morrow.  ' ' 

"Other  matters,"  repeated  Lord  Julius, 
and  exchanged  a  look  with  his  son  as  they 
rose.  "My  dear  Christian,  there  are  no 
other  matters. ' ' 

"No — not     till      to-morrow,"     answered 
Christian,  with  a  doubtful  smile.    "But  then 
I  am  afraid  there  are  a  good  many." 
485 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

Emamiel  filled  in  the  pause.  "Mr.  Soman 
has  brought  all  the  papers, ' '  he  said,  with  a 
flitting  return  to  his  lighter  manner.  "It  is 
my  father's  meaning  that  the  mortgages  are 
extinguished." 

Christian  gazed  from  one  to  the  other  with 
a  face  full  of  stupefaction.  His  knees  shook 
and  sought  to  bend  under  him.  Tremblingly 
he  essayed  to  speak — and  his  lips  would 
make  no  sound. 

Lord  Julius  laid  his  big  hand  on  the  young 
man's  shoulder — and  Christian,  dimly  recall 
ing  the  effect  of  this  touch  in  the  days  when 
he  had  first  known  it,  thrilled  at  the  novel 
restfulness  it  somehow  now  conferred. 

"Only  show  me  a  son  of  yours,"  said  the 
old  man,  with  tender  gravity.  "Let  me  see 
an  heir  before  I  die." 

Without  further  words,  the  two  left  him. 
Christian,  staring  at  the  shadowed  door 
through  which  they  had  vanished,  remained 
standing.  His  confused  brain  quailed  in 
the  presence  of  thoughts  more  stupendous 
than  the  ancient  hills  outside. 


486 


CHAPTER    XXIII 

Several. thousand  people  caught  that  day 
their  first  curious  glimpse  of  the  new  master 
of  Caermere.  At  the  most  there  were  but  a 
handful  of  aged  persons,  in  the  throng  clus 
tered  along  the  sides  of  the  road  winding 
down  from  the  Castle  to  the  partially 
restored  medieval  collegiate  church  in  the 
valley,  who  could  remember  any  other  duke 
than  the  one  being  borne  now  to  lie  among 
his  fathers.  The  fact  that  these  venerable 
folk,  without  exception,  were  in  the  enjoy 
ment  of  a  day's  holiday  from  the  workhouse, 
might  have  interested  a  philosopher,  had  it 
been  pressed  upon  his  attention. 

Quite  two  hundred  horsemen,  mounted  in 
their  own  saddles  on  their  own  beasts,  rode 
in  the  long  procession  which  descended 
from  Caermere  toward  the  close  of  the  noon 
hour.  Clad  in  decent  black  for  the  greater 
part,  with  old  silk  hats  or  other  formal  and 
somber  headgear/  they  jogged  sedately  in 
unison  as  the  curbed  horses  stepped  with 
caution  down  the  hill.  Their  browned  and 
large-featured  faces  wore  a  uniform  mask  of 
solemnity— distinguished  chiefly  by  a  reso- 
487 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

lute  contraction  of  brows  and  lips,  and  eyes 
triumphantly  cleared  of  all  traces  of  specula 
tion.  They  looked  down,  as  they  passed, 
upon  the  humbler  dalesmen  and  laborers  of 
the  hillsides,  and  their  womenfolk  and 
swarming  children,  with  an  impassive, 
opacated  gaze. 

On  the  green,  before  the  little  covered 
gateway  to  the  churchyard,  dull  murmurs 
spread  through  this  cortege,  propelled  side 
long  from  mouths  which  scorned  to  open; 
the  main  principles  of  a  proposed  evolution 
came  slowly,  in  some  mysterious  way,  to  be 
comprehended  among  them:  after  almost 
less  backing  and  pushing  into  one  another 
than  might  have  been  expected,  they  per 
ceived  themselves  emerging  into  an  orderly 
arrangement,  by  which  they  lined  the  two 
sides  of  the  carriage-way  crossing  the  green 
They  regarded  each  other  across  this  signifi 
cant  strip  of  gravel  with  a  gloomy  stolidity  of 
pride:  the  West  Salop  Yeomanry  could 
scarcely  have  done  it  better.  Then  another 
rustle  of  whispered  sounds  along  their  ranks 
toward  the  church — and  the  civic  side  of 
their  demonstration  came. uppermost.  With 
a  tightened  left  hand  upon  the  reins,  they 
removed  their  hats,  and  held  them  so  that 
they  could  most  readily  read  the  names  of 
the  makers  inside. 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

The  carriages  bearing  the  family  of  Torr, 
preceded  by  the  curtained  hearse,  and  fol 
lowed  by  a  considerable  number,  of  brough 
ams  and  closed  landaus  recognizable  as  the 
property  of  the  neighboring  gentry,  moved 
silently  forward  along  this  lane  of  uncovered 
horsemen.  The  distant  swelling  moan  of 
the  organ  floated  on  the  May  air,  in  effect  a 
comment  upon  the  fact  that  the  tolling  of  the 
bell  in  the  tower  had  ceased. 

The  intermittent  noise  of  carriage-doors 
being  sharply  shut,  and  of  wheels  getting 
out  of  the  way,  proceeded  from  the  head  of 
the  procession  at  the  gate — and  tenants  and 
other  undistinguished  people  on  foot  began 
to  press  forward  between  the  ranks.  The 
horsemen,  with  furtive  glances  to  right  and 
left,  put  on  their  hats  again,  and  let  the 
restive  animals  stretch  their  muscles  in  the 
path.  A  few,  dismounting,  and  giving  their 
bridles  over  to  boys,  joined  those  who  were 
moving  toward  the  church.  The  majority, 
drawing  their  horses  aside  into  groups 
formed  at  random,  and  incessantly  shifting, 
lent  their  intellects,  and  in  some  restrained 
measure  their  tongues,  to  communion  upon 
the  one  great  problem  of  the  day : — would 
the  new  Duke  set  the  Hunt  on  its  legs  again? 

The  question  was  so  intimately  connected 
with  their  tenderest  emotions  and  convic- 
489 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

tions,   that    no    one    liked    to   speak    of   it 
thoughtlessly  or  upon  hasty  impulse.     Even 
those  who  doubted  most,  shrank  from  hear 
ing  the  prophecies  of  evil  they   felt  prone 
to     utter.       Men     who     nourished     almost 
buoyant  hopes  still  hesitated  to  create  a  con 
fidence  which  must  be  so  precarious.     While 
the  faint  sustained  recitative  of  the  priest  in 
the   church    could    be  heard,   insistent  and 
disturbing  like  the  monotone  of  a  distant 
insect,   and   then  the  sounds  of  the  organ 
once  more,   and  of  singing,   fell  upon  the 
sunlit  green,  the  horsemen  spoke  cautiously 
about  the  hounds.     Even  before  Lord  Por- 
lock's  death,  things  had  not  been  what  they 
should  have  been.     The  pack  was  even  then, 
as  one  might  say,  falling  between  two  stools. 
The  Torrs  hadn't  the  money  to  keep  the 
thing    up    properly    themselves,    but    they 
showed  their  teeth  savagely  the  minute  men 
tion  was  made  of  getting  in  some  outside 
help.     But  since  Porlock's  death — well,  the 
condition  of  affairs  had  been  too  painful  for 
words.     The  horsemen  shook  their  heads  in 
dumb  eloquence   upon  this  tragic  interval. 
The  Kennels  had  lapsed  into  a  state  hardly 
to    be    thought    of,    much    less    discussed. 
There  had  been  no  puppy- walk.     Were  there 
any  young  dogs  at  all?    And,  just  heavens! 
if  there  were,  what  must  they  be  like  1 
490 


GLORIA  MUNDI 

And  yet  the  country-side,  outraged  as  it 
felt  itself  to  be  in  its  finest  feelings,  beheld 
itself  helpless.      The  old  Duke — but  really 
this  was  not  just  the  time  and  place  for  say 
ing    what  they  felt    about    the    old    Duke 
They  glanced    uneasily  toward  the  church 
when    this     theme     suggested     itself,    and 
nodded  with  meaning   to  one  another.      It 
could  be  taken  for  granted  that  there  were 
no   illusions    among  them  concerning  him. 
But  what  about  the  new  man?     Eyes  bright 
ened,  lips  quivered  in  beseeching  inquiry,  at 
the  mention   of  this    omnipotent    stranger. 
What  was  he  like?     Had  anybody  heard  any 
thing  that  Welldon  had  said  about  him?     It 
seemed  that  he  was  French  bred,  and  that, 
considered  by  itself,  might  easily  involve  the 
worst.     But  then,  was  there  not  a  story  that 
he  had  ridden  to  the  hounds  in  Derbyshire? 
Perhaps  the  younger  generation  of  French 
men  were  better  fellows  than  their  fathers — 
but  then,  there  was  the  reported  fact  that  the 
Duke  of  Orleans  fell  off  his  horse  and  broke 
his   leg   whenever    he    tried  to    ride.      Sir 
George  had  been  informed  in  Paris  that  he 
would  have  been   King  of  France   by  this 
time  if  he  had  been  able  to  stick  in  a  saddle. 
Yet,  when   one  thought  of  it,  did  not  this 
very  fact  indicate  a  fine  new  public  senti 
ment  in  France,  on  the   subject   of   horse- 
491 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

manship  —  and  perhaps  even  of  sport  in 
general? 

Christian,  at  the  door  of  the  church,  had 
thought  most  of  clenching  his  teeth,  and 
straining  his  upper-arms  against  his  sides,  to 
keep  from  trembling.  He  had  not  pictured 
himself,  beforehand,  as  entering  this  burial 
place  of  his  ancestors  alone.  Yet,  in  the 
churchyard,  that  was  how  the  matter 
arranged  itself.  His  first  idea  had  been  to 
lead,  with  Kathleen  on  his  arm — but  she  had 
said  her  place  was  with  Emanuel  instead. 
Then  the  alternative  of  walking  arm-in-arm 
with  Lord  Julius  had  seemed  to  him  even 
more  appropriate — but  this  too,  in  the  con 
fused  constraint  of  the  moment,  had  gone 
wrong.  Stealing  an  anxious  half-glance 
over  his  shoulder,  he  discovered  that  Lord 
Julius  had  placed  himself  at  Kathleen's  other 
side.  The  slight  gesture  of  appealing  invi 
tation  which  he  ventured  upon  did  not  catch 
the  old  man's  eye.  There  was  nothing  for 
it  but  to  stand  alone. 

To  be  the  strange,  unsupported  central 
figure  in  such  a  pageant  unnerved  him.  He 
stood  tremulously  behind  the  pall — a  burden 
draped  with  a  great  purple  embroidered 
cloth,  and  borne  upon  the  shoulders  of  eight 
peasant-laborers  from  the  estate — and  noted 
fleetingly  that,  so  stunted  and  mean  of 
492 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

stature  were  these  poor  hinds,  he  looked 
with  ease  above  them,  over  their  load,  into 
the  faces  of  the  two  priests  advancing  down 
the  walk  toward  him. 

These  persons,  an  elderly,  dark  man,  with 
a  red  hood  folded  upon  his  shoulders,  and  a 
thin-faced  fair  young  man,  seemed  to  return 
the  gaze  with  meaning.  He  caught  himself 
feeling  that  their  eyes  deferred  to  him ;  yes, 
if  they  had  bowed  to  the  ground,  the  effect 
of  their  abasement  before  him  could  not 
have  been  more  palpable.  Looking  per 
functorily  across  the  chasm  of  death,  their 
glances  sought  to  make  interest  with  the 
living.  He  hated  them  both  on  the  instant. 
As  they  wheeled,  and  by  their  measured 
steps  forward  drew  slowly  in  their  wake  the 
bearers  of  the  pall,  the  chant  of  the  elder — 
"I  am  the  Resurrection  and  the  Life" — came 
vaguely  to  his  ears,  and  found  them  hostile. 

The  interior  of  the  old  church — dim,  cool, 
cloistral — was  larger  than  Christian  had 
assumed  from  its  outer  aspect.  Many  people 
were  present,  crowded  close  in  the  pews 
nearest  the  door — and  strangely  enough,  it 
was  his  perception  that  these  were  chiefly 
women,  of  some  unlabeled  class  which  at 
least  was  not  his  own,  that  brought  to  him 
of  a  sudden  self-command.  He  followed  the 
bier  up  the  aisle  to  its  resting-place  before 
493 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

the  rail,  took  tacit  cognizance  of  the  place 
indicated  to  him  by  some  man  in  profes 
sional  black,  and  stood  aside  to  let  Kathleen 
pass  in  before  him,  all  with  a  restored 
equanimity  in  which  he  was  himself  much 
interested.  Through  the  reading  of  the 
Psalm  and  the  Epistle  he  gave  but  the  most 
vagrant  attention  to  their  words.  The 
priests  read  badly,  for  one  thing;  the  whin 
ing  artificiality  of  their  elocution  annoyed 
and  repelled  him.  But  still  more,  his 
thoughts  were  diverted  by  the  suggestive- 
ness  of  everything  about  him. 

Especially,  the  size  of  the  funeral  gather 
ing,  and  of  the  mounted  and  wheeled  pro 
cession,  had  impressed  him.  There  need  be 
no  pretense  that  affection  or  esteem  for  the 
dead  man  had  brought  out,  from  the  sparsely 
populated  country  round  about,  this  great 
multitude.  Precisely  for  that  reason,  it 
became  a  majestic  fact.  The  burial  of  a 
Duke  of  Glastonbury  had  nothing  to  do  with 
personal  qualities  or  reputation.  It  was  like 
the  passing  away  of  a  monarch.  People 
who  cared  nothing  for  the  individual  were 
stirred  and  appealed  to  by  the  vicissitudes  of 
an  institution.  Inset  upon  the  walls  around 
him  were  marble  tablets,  and  more  archaic 
canopies  of  stone  over  little  carved  effigies 
of  kneeling  figures;  beyond,  at  the  sides  of 
494 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

the  chancel,  he  could  see  the  dark,  rectangu 
lar  elevations  of  the  tombs,  capped  by 
recumbent  mail-clad  statues,  with  here  and 
there  a  gleam  of  gilt  or  scarlet  retained  from 
their  ancient  ornamentation ;  even  as  he  had 
walked  slowly  up  the  aisle,  his  downcast 
eyes  had  noticed  the  chiseled  heraldry  of 
stones  beneath  his  feet.  Everywhere  about 
him  was  the  historic  impact  of  the  Torrs. 
Their  ashes  were  here — their  banners  and 
shields  and  tilting-helmets,  their  symbolical 
quarterings  of  the  best  arms  of  the  West, 
their  own  proudest  device  of  all.  Their 
white  bull  on  the  green  ground  was  familiar 
in  England  long  before  the  broom-corn  of 
the  Angevins  had  been  thought  of.  The 
clerkly  pun  on  Tor  and  Taurus  was  as  like  as 
not  older  than  the  English  language  itself. 
All  this  made  something  mightier,  more 
imposing  and  enduring,  than  any  edifice  to 
be  reared  by  man  alone.  It  was  only  in  part 
human,  this  structure  of  the  family.  The 
everlasting  hills  were  a  part  of  it,  the  dark 
ranges  of  forests,  the  spirits  and  legends  of 
the  ancient  Marches. 

"In  the  morning  it  is  green,  and  groweth 
up;  but  in  the  evening  it  is  cut  down,  dried  up 
and  withered, ' '  droned  the  young  clergyman. 

But  if  man  seemed  to  count  for  but  little 
in  this  tremendous,  forceful  aggregation  of 
495 


GLORIA    MUNDI 

tradition  and  custom,  yet  again  he  might  be 
all  in  all.  The  tall  old  man  under  the  purple 
pall,  there — it  was  easy  to  think  con 
temptuously  of  him.  Christian  recalled,  in  a 
kind  of  affrighted  musing,  that  one  view  of 
his  grandfather  that  he  had  had.  The  dis 
gust  with  which  he  had  heard  the  stupid, 
violent  words  from  those  aged  lips  revived 
within  him — then  changed  to  wonder.  Was 
it  not,  after  all,  the  principle  of  strength 
which  most  affected  men's  minds?  There 
had  been  discernible  in  that  grandfather  of 
his  a  certain  sort  of  strength — dull,  unintel 
ligent,  sinister,  half-barbarous,  but  still 
strength.  Was  it  not  that  which  had 
brought  forth  the  two  hundred  horsemen? 
And  if  this  one  element  of  strength — yes, 
you  might  call  it  brute  strength — were  lack 
ing,  then  would  all  the  other  fine  qualities 
in  the  world  avail  to  hold  the  impalpable, 
intangible  combination  together? 

4  'He  shall  have  put  down  all  rule,  and  all 
authority,  and  power.  '"It  was  the  old  parson 
who  was  reading  now.    "  'For  He  must  reign, 
till  He  hath  put  all  enemies  under  His  feet.'  " 
Yes,  even  in  this  Protestant   religion  to 
which  he  had  passively  become  committed, 
force  was  the  real  ideal !     Christian ' s  wander 
ing  mind  fastened  itself  for  a  moment  upon 
the   ensuing  words  of  the   lesson,   but  got 
496 


GLORIA  MUNDI 

nothing  from  their  confusing  reiterations. 
He  lapsed  into  reverie  again,  then  started 
abruptly  with  the  sudden  perception  that 
everybody  in  the  church  behind  him  must  be 
looking  at  him.  In  the  pew  immediately 
behind,  there  would  be  Captain  Edward  and 
his  wife,  and  Augustine ;  in  the  one  behind 
that  Lady  Cressage,  Lord  Chobham  and  his 
son;  beyond  them  scores  and  scores  of 
others  seated  in  rows,  and  then  a  throng  in 
the  aisle  and  the  doorway — all  purporting  to 
think  of  the  dead,  but  fixing  their  eyes  none 
the  less  on  the  living.  And  it  was  not  alone 
in  the  church,  but  through  the  neighbor 
hood,  for  miles  round  about:  when  men 
spoke  of  the  old  Duke  who  was  gone,  their 
minds  would  in  truth  be  dwelling  upon  the 
new  Duke  who  was  come.  A  thrill  ran 
through  his  veins  as  the  words  spelled  them 
selves  out  before  his  inner  vision.  The  new 
Duke!  He  seemed  never  to  have  compre 
hended  what  it  meant  before. 

No;  and  till  this  moment  no  genuine 
realization  had  come  to  him  of  this  added 
meaning  —  this  towering  superstructure 
which  the  message  of  Julius  and  Emanuel 
had  reared.  It  was  only  now  that  he  hit 
upon  the  proper  mental  focus  with  which  to 
contemplate  this  amazing  thing.  Not  only 
was  he  a  territorial  ruler,  one  of  the  great 
497 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

nobles  of  Europe,  but  he  was  the  master  of 
wealth  almost  beyond  counting  as  well ! 

Those  nearest  to  him  were  rising  now,  and 
he,  obeying  imperative  impulses  within  him, 
lifted  himself  proudly  to  his  feet.  While  the 
air  throbbed  with  deep-voiced  organ  notes, 
in  the  pause  which  here  ensued,  his  gaze 
rested  upon  the  pall  before  him.  There  was 
a  sense  of  transfiguration  in  the  spectacle. 
The  purple  mantle  became  imperial  Tyrian 
to  his  eyes — and  something  which  was 
almost  tenderness,  almost  reverence,  yearned 
within  him  toward  that  silent,  incased  figure 
hidden  beneath  it.  The  mystic,  omnipotent 
tie  of  blood  gripped  his  heart. 

With  a  collected  sidelong  look  he  surveyed 
the  profiles  of  Emanuel  and  Lord  Julius  to 
his  left.  Theirs  were  the  lineaments  of 
princes.  As  if  he  had  eyes  in  the  back  of 
his  head,  he  beheld  Edward  and  Augustine, 
as  fancy  revealed  them  standing  in  the  pew 
behind  him.  Tall,  slim,  athletic,  fair — the 
figures  his  imagination  made  of  them 
appealed  to  the  new  patriarchal  spirit  in  his 
heart.  Perhaps  they  were  not  wholly  nice, 
these  young  men,  but  they  also  were  princes, 
and  they  were  of  his  race,  and  no  one  should 
persecute  them,  or  despitefully  use  them. 

The  uncouth  little  bearers  of  the  dead  had 
come  forward  again,  and  taken  up  their 

4Q8 


GLORIA  MUNDI 

burden.  In  a  small  lady-chapel,  extending 
from  the  transept  at  the  left,  the  interment 
was  to  take  place,  and  thither  Christian  now 
followed  the  pall,  leading  the  menfolk  of  his 
family  and  the  male  guests  of  position  who 
attached  themselves  to  the  group.  Thus 
some  score  of  black-clad  figures  clustered 
round  the  oblong  opening  in  the  old  stone 
floor,  and  Christian,  standing  at  its  head, 
glanced  impassively  over  the  undefined 
throng  of  spectators  gathered  at  the  doorway. 

"  'Man  that  is  born  of  woman  hath  but  a 
short  time  to  live,  and  is  full  of  misery,'  " 
proclaimed  the  younger  priest,  with  a  sudden 
outburst  of  high-pitched,  nasal  tones  which 
pierced  the  unexpectant  ear.  "  'Hecomethup, 
and  is  cut  down,  like  a  flower;  he  fleet h  as  it 
were  a  shadow,  and  never  continueth  in  one 
stay:  " 

Christian,  watching  abstractedly  the  imper 
sonal  wedge  of  faces  at  the  door,  all  at  once 
caught  his  breath  in  a  sharp  spasm  of 
bewildered  amazement.  The  little  book  he 
had  been  holding  fell  from  his  hands,  bal 
anced  on  its  edge  for  an  instant  and  toppled 
over  into  the  dark  vault  below.  He  seemed 
unconscious  of  the  incident — but  stared 
fixedly,  with  parted  lips  and  astonished  eyes, 
at  the  image  of  something  he  had  seen  out 
side  of  the  chapel.  The  thing  itself  had 
499 


GLORIA  MUNDI 

apparently  vanished.  He  perceived  vaguely 
that  people  were  looking  at  him — and  with 
a  determined  effort  regained  control  of  his 
face  and  bearing.  The  puzzling  thought 
that  it  might  have  been  an  illusion — that 
perhaps  he  had  seen  nothing  at  all — brought 
mingled  confusion  and  solace  to  his  mind. 
He  put  his  hand  to  the  open  book  which 
Lord  Julius  at  his  side  held  toward  him,  and 
pretended  to  look  at  it. 

The  coffin,  now  bereft  of  its  purple  cover 
ing,  had  been  lowered  to  its  final  place.  One 
of  the  bearers,  standing  over  the  cavity, 
crumbled  dry  earth  from  his  tanned  and 
clumsy  fingers,  and  it  fell  with  a  faint  rattle 
upon  some  resonant,  unseen  surface. 

The  phrase,  "  "Our  dear  brother ,  here  de 
parted^  "  stuck  out  with  awkward  obtrusive- 
ness  from  among  the  words  of  the  priest. 
"  'Earth  to  earth,  ashes  to  ashes,  dust  to 
</z/.y//"  the  sing-song  went  on.  Then  they 
were  repeating  the  Lord's  Prayer  together 
in  a  buzzing,  fitful  murmur.  There  were 
other  prayers — and  then  Christian  read  in 
the  faces  of  those  about  him  that  the  cere 
mony  was  finished.  Accepting  the  sugges 
tion  of  Lord  Julius's  movement,  he  also 
bent  over,  and  looked  blankly  down  into  the 
obscurity  of  the  vault.  But  when  he  lifted 
his  head  again,  it  was  to  throw  a  more 
500 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

searching  and  strenuous  glance  than  ever 
over  the  knot  of  people  outside  the  door. 
And  yes ! — he  had  not  been  deceived.  He 
distinctly  saw  the  face  again,  and  with  light 
ning  swiftness  verified  its  features.  Beyond 
a  shadow  of  doubt  it  was  Frances  Bailey 
whom  he  beheld,  mysteriously  present  in 
this  most  unlikely  of  places. 

He  withdrew  his  eyes  and  did  not  look 
that  way  again.  The  question  whether  she 
knew  that  he  had  recognized  her,  occupied 
his  mind  to  the  exclusion  of  all  else,  as  he 
returned  at  the  head  of  his  followers  to  the 
body  of  the  church.  It  still  possessed  his 
thoughts  when  he  had  joined  the  family 
group  of  chief  mourners,  loosely  collecting 
itself  in  the  aisle  before  the  front  pews,  in 
waiting  for  the  summons  to  the  carriages. 
To  some  one  he  ought  to  speak  at  once,  and 
for  the  moment  his  eye  rested  speculatively 
upon  Cora.  He  identified  her  confidently, 
not  only  by  her  husband's  proximity,  but  by 
the  fact  that  her  mourning  veil  was  much 
thicker  and  longer  than  any  of  the  others. 
Some  unshaped  consideration,  however, 
restrained  him,  and  on  a  swift  second 
thought  he  turned  to  Kathleen. 

"I  want  you  to  look, "  he  whispered  to  her, 
inclining  his  head — "on  the  other  side  of  the 
church,  just  in  a  line  between  the  second 
501 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

pillar  and  the  white-bearded  figure  in  the 
window — there  is  a  tall  young  woman,  with 
the  gray  and  black  hat.  Do  you  see  her? 
In  a  kind  of  way  she  belongs  to  us — she  is 
Cora's  sister,  but  I'm  afraid  if  Cora  asked 
her,  she  would  not  come  to  the  Castle." 

"Yes — once  you  talked  to  me  about  her," 
Kathleen  reminded  him. 

"Well,  will  you  do  this  for  me?"  he  con 
tinued,  in  an  eager  murmur.  "Go  to  her, 
and  make  sure  that  she  promises  to  come  up 
with  the  rest.  It  would  be  unforgivable — if 
we  let  her  go  away. " 

He  had  an  uneasy  feeling  that  Mrs.  Eman- 
uel's  veil  did  not  prevent  her  shrewd  glance 
from  reading  him  through  and  through — but 
he  did  not  seek  to  dissemble  the  breath  of 
relief  with  which  he  heard  her  assent. 


CHAPTER    XXIV 

"It  was  not  a  very  easy  task,"  Kathleen 
found  opportunity  to  say  to  Christian,  half 
an  hour  later,  as  the  family  were  assembling 
in  his  library.  They  stood  together  by  the 
window  nearest  the  table,  and  watched  the 
embarrassed  deportment  of  Lord  Lingfield 
under  the  conversational  attentions  of  Cora, 
as  they  talked  in  low  tones. 

"But  she  is  here  in  the  Castle:  that  is  the 
principal  thing."  He  did  not  shrink  now 
from  the  implication  of  his  words. 

"Yes,  she  finally  consented  to  come," 
explained  the  other.  "I  told  her  that  you 
insisted  upon  it — and  then — then  I  used  some 
persuasion  of  my  own." 

"I  thank  you,  Kathleen,"  he  said,  simply. 

"It  seems  that  she  is  to  write  an  account 
of  the  funeral  for  some  London  newspaper. 
She  said  frankly,  however,  that  that  of  itself 
did  not  account  for  her  coming.  It  will  pay 
her  expenses — so  she  said — but  the  paper 
would  not  have  sent  her  specially.  And 
there  is  no  doubt  about  it — she  was  really 
annoyed  at  being  discovered. ' ' 
503 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

The  solicitors  from  Shrewsbury,  entering 
the  room  now,  gave  at  once  an  official  air  to 
everything.  The  elder  of  them,  with  oppres 
sive  formality,  drew  a  formidable  parchment 
from  a  bag  held  by  his  junior,  and  bowed 
elaborately  to  Christian.  Then,  as  if  he  had 
received  some  mandate  to  do  so  from  His 
Grace,  he  untied  the  tape,  and  cleared  his 
throat.  Those  who  had  been  seated,  rose 
to  their  feet. 

The  will  came  to  them  unaltered  from 
1859 — and  contained,  wrapped  in  a  surpris 
ing  deal  of  pompous  verbiage,  a  solitary 
kernel  of  essential  fact.  No  legatee  was 
mentioned  save  an  impersonal  being  called 
the  heir-at-law.  The  absolutism  of  dynastic 
rule  contemplated  no  distribution  or  division 
of  power.  This  slender,  dark-eyed  young 
man,  standing  with  head  inclined  and  a  nerv 
ous  hand  upon  the  table,  had  not  come  into 
being  until  long  after  that  will  was  made, 
and  for  other  long  years,  thereafter  his  very 
existence  had  been  unknown  to  the  family  at 
large.  Yet,  as  the  lawyer's  reading  ended, 
there  he  stood  before  their  gaze,  the  un 
questioned  autocrat. 

"This  may  be  the  best  time  to  say  it." 

Christian  straightened  himself,  and  addressed 

his  family  for  the  first  time,   with  a  grave 

smile,  and  a  voice  which  was  behaving  itself 

504 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

better  than  he  feared  it  would.  "There  are 
no  minor  bequests,  owing  to  the  circum 
stances  under  which  the  will  was  drawn,  but 
I  have  taken  it  upon  myself  to  supply  such 
omissions,  in  this  matter,  as  shall  commend 
themselves  to  my  consideration.  Upon  this 
subject  we  may  speak  among  ourselves  at 
our  leisure,  later  on. ' '  With  distinguished 
self-possession  he  looked  at  his  watch.  "I 
think  luncheon  is  at  two." 

There  followed  here  an  unrehearsed,  and 
seemingly  unpremeditated,  episode.  Lord 
Julius  advanced  with  impressive  gravity 
across  the  little  open  space,  and  taking  the 
hand  which  Christian  impulsively  extended 
to  him,  bent  over  it  in  a  formal  and  courtly 
bow.  When  Emanuel,  following  his  father, 
did  the  same,  it  was  within  the  conscious 
ness  of  all  that  they  had  become  committed 
to  a  new  ceremonial  rite.  Kathleen,  coming 
behind  her  husband,  gave  her  cheek  to  be 
kissed  by  the  young  chief  of  her  adopted 
clan — and  this  action  translated  itself  into  a 
precedent  as  well. 

Edward  and  Augustine,  after  the  hesita 
tion  of  an  awkward  instant,  came  forward 
together,  and  in  their  turn,  with  a  flushed 
stiffness  of  deportment,  made  their  saluta 
tion  to  the  head  of  the  house.  To  them, 
conjointly,  Christian  said  something  in  a 
505 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

whisper.  He  kissed  Cora  upon  each  cheek, 
with  a  faint  smile  in  his  eyes  at  her  prefer 
ence  for  the  foreign  method.  His  remoter 
cousins,  the  Earl  of  Chobham  and  Lord  Ling- 
field,  passed  before  him,  and  he  vaguely 
noted  the  reservation  expressed  in  their 
lifeless  palms  and  frigid  half-bow.  They 
seemed  to  wish  to  differentiate  themselves 
from  the  others — to  express  to  him  the  Pick 
wickian  character  of  their  homage.  They 
were  not  Torrs ;  they  did  not  salaam  to  him 
as  their  over-lord.  They  had  a  rival  dynasty 
of  their  own,  and  their  appearance  here 
involved  nothing  but  the  seemly  courtesy  of 
distant  relationship.  He  perceived  in  a  dim 
way  that  this  was  what  their  manner  was 
saying  to  him — but  it  scarcely  diverted  his 
attention.  His  glance  and  his  thoughts 
passed  over  their  heads,  to  fasten  upon  the 
remaining  figure. 

Lady  Cressage,  unlike  the  other  two 
women,  had  retained  the  bonnet  and  heavy 
veil  of  mourning.  The  latter  she  held 
drawn  aside  with  a  black-gloved  hand  as  she 
approached.  It  flashed  suddenly  across 
Christian's  brain  that  the  year  of  her  mourn 
ing  for  her  own  dead  was  not  over — yet  in 
her  own  house  she  wore  gay  laces  and  light 
colors.  But  it  was  unkind  to  remember  this 
— and  senseless,  too.  He  strove  to  revivify, 
506 


GLORIA    MUNDI 

instead,  the  great  compassionate  impulse 
which  formerly  she  had  stirred  within  him. 
A  pallid  shadow  of  it  was  all  that  he  could 
conjure  up — and  in  the  chill  of  this  shadow 
he  touched  her  white  temple  with  his  lips, 
and  she  moved  away.  There  lingered  in  his 
mind  a  curious,  passive  conflict  of  memories 
as  to  whether  their  eyes  had  met  or  not. 
Then  this  yielded  place  to  the  impression 
some  detached  organ  of  perception  had 
formed  for  him,  that  in  that  somber  setting 
of  crape  her  :face  had  looked  too  small  for 
the  rest  of  her  figure. 

Then,  as  the  whole  subject  melted  from 
his  mind,  he  turned  toward  the  two  young 
men  who,  upon  his  whispered  request,  had 
remained  in  the  library  after  the  departure 
of  the  others.  He  looked  at  his  watch,  and 
beckoned  them  forward  with  a  friendly  wave 
of  his  hand. 

"Pray  come  and  sit  down,"  he  said,  with 
affability  upon  the  surface  of  his  tone.  "We 
have  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  and  I  felt  that  it 
could  not  be  put  to  better  use  than  in  reliev 
ing  your  minds  a  little — or  trying  to  do  so. 
Let  me  begin  by  saying  that  I  do  not  think 
I  have  met  either  of  you  before.  In  fact, 
now  that  I  reflect,  I  am  sure  that  we  have 
not  met  before.  I  am  glad  to  see  you 
both." 

507 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

The  two  brothers  had  drawn  near,  and 
settled  uneasily  into  the  very  chairs  which 
Lord  Julius  and  Emanuel  had  occupied  some 
hours  before.  Again  Christian  half  seated 
himself  upon  the  corner  of  the  table,  but 
this  time  he  swung  his  leg  lightly  as  he  sur 
veyed  his  guests.  It  flattered  his  prophetic 
judgment  to  note  that  Augustine  seemed  the 
first  to  apprehend  the  meaning  of  his  words, 
but  that  Edward,  upon  pondering  them, 
appeared  the  more  impressed  by  their  mag 
nanimity.  Between  them,  as  they  regarded 
him  and  each  other  doubtfully,  the  family 
likeness  was  more  striking  than  ever. 
Christian  remembered  having  heard  some 
where  that  their  father,  Lord  Edward,  had 
been  a  dark  man,  as  a  Torr  should  be. 
Their  flaxen  hair  and  dull  blue  eyes  must 
come  from  that  unmentionable  mother  of 
theirs,  who  was  living  in  indefinite  obscurity 
—if  she  was  living  at  all — upon  the  black 
mail  Julius  paid  her  for  not  using  the  family 
name.  The  thought  somehow  put  an  added 
gentleness  into  his  voice. 

"How  old  are  you — Eddy?"  he  asked, 
forcing  himself  into  the  use  of  the  diminutive 
as  a  necessary  part  of  the  patriarchal  role  he 
had  assumed. 

"Nine-and-twenty  in  October,"  answered 
the  Captain,  poutingly.      It  seemed  on  the 
508 


GLORIA    MUNDI 

tip  of  his  tongue  to  add  something  else,  but 
he  did  not. 

"There's  two  years  and  a  month  between 
us, ' '  remarked  Augustine,  with  more  buoy 
ancy. 

"And  you've  been  out  of  the  army  for  five 
years, "  pursued  Christian.  "It  seems  that 
you  became  a  Captain  very  early.  Would 
there  be  any  chance  of  your  taking  it  up 
again,  where  you  left  off?" 

Edward  shook  his  head.  "It  couldn't  be 
done  twice.  I  got  it  by  a  lucky  fluke — a 
friend  of  my  father's,  you  know.  But 
they're  deuced  stiff  now,"  he  answered. 
"You  have  to  do  exams  and  things.  An  old 
Johnnie  asks  you  what  bounds  Peru  on  the 
northeast,  and  if  you  can't  remember  just  at 
the  minute,  why,  you  get  chucked.  Out  you 
go,  d'ye  see?" 

"What  is  your  idea,  then?  What  would 
you  like  to  do?" 

Captain  Edward  knitted  his  scanty,  pale 
brows  over  this  question,  and  regarded  the 
prospect  through  the  window  in  frowning 
perplexity.  "Oh,  almost  anything,"  he 
remarked  at  last,  vacuously. 

Christian  permitted  himself  the  comment 

of  a  smiling  sniff.     *  *  Think  it  over, ' '  he  said, 

and   directed   his    glance    at    the    younger 

brother.      "You're  in    Parliament,"  he  ob- 

509 


GLORIA    MUNDI 

served,    with   a   slight    difference   in   tone. 
"I'm   not   sure    that    I    quite    understand 
What  is  it  that  attracts  you  in  a — in  a  Parlia 
mentary  career?" 

Augustine  lifted  his  pale,  scanty  brows  in 
surprise.  The  right  kind  of  answer  did  not 
come  readily  to  him.  "Well,"  he  began 
with  hesitation  —  "there  was  that  seat  in 
Cheshire  where  we  still  had  a  good  bit  of 
land— and  Julius  didn't  object — and  I  had 
an  idea  it  would  help  me  in  the  City."  He 
recovered  confidence  as  he  went  on.  "But 
it  is  pretty  well  played  out  now,  I  came  in 
too  late.  The  Kaffir  boom  spoiled  the  whole 
show.  Five  years  ago  an  M  P.  could  pick 
and  choose;  I  knew  fellows  who  were  on 
twenty  boards  at  a  time,  and  big  blocks  of 
stock  were  flying  about  them  like — like 
hailstones.  But  you  can't  do  that  now.  M. 
P. 's  are  as  cheap  as  dirt;  they  won't  have 
'em  at  any  price.  A  fellow  hardly  makes 
his  cab-fares  in  the  City  nowadays.  And 
even  if  you  get  the  very  best  inside  tips, 
brokers  have  got  so  fearfully  nasty  about 
your  margins  being  covered " 

"Oh,  well,"  interposed  Christian,  "it  isn't 
necessary  that  we  should  go  into  all  that.  I 
do  not  like  to  hear  about  the  City.  If  you 
get  money  for  yourself  there,  you  have  taken 
it  away  from  somebody  else.  I  would  rather 
510 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

that  people  of  our  name  kept  away  from  such 
things." 

"If  you  come  to  that,  everybody's  money 
is  taken  from  somebody  else, ' '  said  Edward, 
unexpectedly  entering  the  conversation.  His 
brother  checked  him  with  a  monitory  hand 
on  his  arm.  "No,  you  don't  understand," 
Augustine  warned  him.  "I  quite  see  what 
the  Duke  means. ' ' 

"If  you  see  what  I  mean,"  returned  Chris 
tian,  quietly,  "perhaps  you  will  follow  the 
rest  that  I  have  to  say.  Do  you  care  very 
much  about  remaining  in  Parliament?" 

Augustine's  face  reflected  an  eager  mental 
effort  to  get  at  his  august  interlocutor's 
meaning.  "Well — that's  so  hard  to  say," 
he  began,  anxiously.  "There  are  points 
about  it,  of  course — but  then — when  you 
look  at  it  in  another  way,  why  of  course — 

"My  idea  is  this,"  Christian  interposed 
once  more.  "I  hope  you  won't  mind  my 
saying  it — but  there  seems  to  me  something 
rather  ridiculous  about  your  being  in  the 
House.  Parliament  ought  not  to  be  treated 
as  a  joke,  or  a  convenience.  It  is  a  place 
for  men  who  will  work  hard  in  the  service 
of  the  country,  and  who  have  the  tastes  and 
the  information  and  the  judgment  and  the 
patriotic  devotion  to  make  their  work  of 
value  to  their  country.  I  dare  say  that  there 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

are  members  who  do  not  entirely  measure 
up  to  this  standard,  but  after  all  there  is  a 
standard,  and  I  do  not  like  to  be  a  party  to 
lowering  it.  England  has  claims  upon  us 
Torrs;  it  deserves  something  better  at  our 
hands  than  that.  So  I  think  I  would  like 
you  to  consider  the  idea  of  resigning  your 
seat — or  at  least,  dropping  out  at  the  end  of 
this  Parliament.  Or  no  —  that  would  be 
waiting  too  long.  You  would  better  think 
of  retiring  now. ' ' 

'  *  Do  you  mean  that  7  am  to  stand  for  the 
seat,  instead?"  asked  Edward,  looking  up 
with  awakened  interest. 

Christian  stared,  then  sighed  smilingly 
and  shook  his  head. 

"No,  that  doesn't  seem  to  have  been  in 
my  mind,"  he  replied  with  gentleness.  He 
contemplated  the  elder  brother  afresh. 

"Have  you  thought  yet  what  you  would 
like  to  do?"  he  asked  again,  almost  with 
geniality. 

"How  d'ye  mean  'do'?"  inquired  Edward, 
with  a  mutinous  note  in  his  voice.  "Is  it 
something  about  a  business?  If  you  ask  me 
straight,  I'm  not  so  fearfully  keen  about 
'doin'  '  anything.  No  fellow  wants  to  do 
things,  if  he  can  rub  along  without." 

Christian  found  himself  repressing  a  gay 
chuckle  with  effort.  He  had  not  dreamed 
512 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

he  should  like  this  one  of  his  kinsmen  so 
much. 

"No — no;  you  shall  not  do  things,"  he 
promised  him,  with  a  sparkling  eye.  "That 
would  be  too  bad. " 

Captain  Edward  turned  in  his  chair,  and 
recrossed  his  legs.  "It's  a  trifle  awkward, 
all  this,  you  know,"  he  declared,  with  an 
impatient  scowl.  "It  doesn't  suit  me  to  be 
made  game  of.  You've  got  the  whip  hand, 
and  you  can  give  me  things  or  not,  as  you 
like,  and  I've  got  to  be  civil  and  take  what 
you  offer,  because  I  can't  help  myself — but 
damn  me  if  I  like  to  be  chaffed  into  the 
bargain!  I  wouldn't  do  it  to  you,  d'ye  see, 
if  it  was  the  other  way  about." 

Christian's  face  lapsed  into  instant 
gravity.  A  fleeting  speculation  as  to  that 
problematical  reversal  of  positions  rose  in 
his  mind,  but  he  put  it  away.  "Ah,  you 
mustn't  think  that,"  he  urged,  wTith  serious 
tones.  "No,  Cousin  Edward,  this  is  what  I 
want  to  say  to  you."  And  then,  all  unbid 
den,  the  things  he  really  wished  to  say,  yet 
which  he  had  not  thought  of  before,  ranged 
themselves  in  his  mind. 

"Listen  to  me,"  he  went  on.     "You  have 

been  a  soldier.     You  were  a  soldier  when 

you  were  a  very  young  man.     Now,  you  had 

an  uncle  who  was  also  a  soldier  when  he  was 

513 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

a  mere  youth — a  very  loyal  and  distinguished 
soldier,  too.  He  died  a  soldier  when  he  was 
in  his  fortieth  year — far  away  from  his 
family,  from  his  wife  and  son,  and  much 
farther  away  still  from  the  place  and  country 
of  his  birth.  Once,  in  his  youth,  he  was 
mixed  up  in  an  unpleasant  and  even  dis 
graceful  affair.  How  much  to  blame  he  per 
sonally  was — that  I  do  not  know.  It  was 
very  long  ago — and  he  was  so  young  a  man 
—really  I  refuse  to  consider  the  question.  I 
could  insist  to  myself  that  he  was  innocent 
— if  I  felt  that  it  mattered  at  all,  one  way  or 
the  other — and  if  I  did  not  feel  that  by  doing 
so,  somehow  he  would  not  be  then  so  real  a 
figure  to  me  as  he  is  now.  And  he  is  very 
real  to  me;  he  has  been  so  all  my  life." 

He  paused,  with  a  momentary  break  in  his 
voice,  to  blink  the  tears  from  his  eyes.  It 
was  not  ducal,. but  he  put  the  back  of  his 
hand  to  his  cheeks,  and  dried  them. 

"I  show  you  how  it  affects  me,"  he  con 
tinued,  simply.  "No  matter  what  he  did  in 
some  stupid  hour  in  London,  he  was  a  brave 
soldier  before  that,  and  after  that.  He 
fought  for  many  losing  causes;  he  died 
fighting  for  one  which  was  most  hopeless  of 
all.  I  am  proud  that  I  am  his  son.  I  am 
proud  for  you,  that  you  are  his  nephew. 
And  something  has  occurred  to  me  that  I 
514 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

think  you  will  like  to  do — for  me  and  for 
him.  When  I  stood  to-day  over  our  vault- 
where  we  are  all  buried — it  cut  me  to  the 
heart  to  remember  that  one  of  us  lies  alone, 
a  great  way  off — in  a  strange  land  by  himself. 
I  propose  to  you  that  you  go  to  Spain  for  me 
—it  is  at  Seo  de  Urgel,  in  the  mountain 
country  of  the  Catalans — and  that  you  find 
his  grave,  and  that  you  bring  him  back  here 
to  sleep  with  his  people.  He  would  not 
return  in  his  lifetime— but  I  think  he  would 
be  pleased  with  us  for  bringing  him  back 


Edward  had  looked  fixedly  up  at  his  cousin, 
then  glanced  away,  then  allowed  his  blank 
gaze  to  return,  the  while  these  words  were 
being  spoken.  It  was  impossible  to  gather 
from  his  reddened,  immobile  face,  now,  any 
notion  of  their  effect  upon  him.  But  after 
a  moment's  pause,  he  rose  to  his  feet, 
squared  his  shoulders  and  put  out  his  hand 
to  Christian. 

"Quite  right;  I'll  go,"  he  said,  abruptly. 

The  two  men  shook  hands,  with  a  sense  of 
magnetic  communion  which  could  have 
amazed  no  one  more  than  themselves. 
Then,  under  a  recurring  consciousness  of 
embarrassed  constraint,  they  turned  away 
from  each  other,  and  Edward  wandered  off 
awkwardly  toward  the  door. 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

"Oh — a  moment  more,"  called  Christian, 
with  a  step  in  his  cousin's  direction.  Then 
on  second  thoughts  he  added:  "Or  shall  we 
let  that  wait?  I  will  see  you  again — some 
time  to-day  or  to-morrow.  Yes — leave  me 
now  for  a  minute  with  your  brother. ' ' 

When  the  door  had  closed  upon  Edward, 
Christian  turned  slowly  to  Augustine,  and, 
as  he  leaned  once  more  against  the  table, 
regarded  him  with  a  ruminating  scrutiny. 

"I  am  puzzled  about  you,"  he  remarked, 
thoughtfully. 

Augustine  returned  the  gaze  with  visible 
perturbation. 

"I  think,"  pursued  Christian,  "that  it 
rather  annoys  me  that  you  don't  tell  me  to 
puzzle  and  be  damned." 

The  other  took  the  words  with  a  grimace, 
and  an  unhappy  little  laugh.  He,  too,  rose 
to  his  feet.  "I  funked  it,"  he  said  with 
rueful  candor. 

"Well,  don't  funk  things  with  me,"  Chris 
tian  advised  him,  with  a  testiness  of  which, 
upon  the  instant,  he  was  ashamed.  "Look 
here,"  he  continued,  less  brusquely,  "I  could 
take  it  from  your  brother  that  he  did  not 
want  to  do  things.  That  fits  him :  he  is  not 
the  kind  of  man  to  apply  himself  in  that 
way.  But  I  have  the  feeling  that  you  are 
different.  There  ought  to  be  performance 
516 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

— capacity — of  some  sort  in  you,  if  I  could 
only  get  to  know  what  it  is.  You  are  only 
my  age.  Isn't  there  something  that  par 
ticularly  appeals  to  you?" 

Augustine  balanced  himself  meditatively 
upon  his  heels.  4 '  You  say  you  bar  the  City' ' 
— he  remarked  with  caution.  "Would  you 
have  any  objection  to  Johannesburg?  It's 
not  what  it  was,  by  any  means,  but  it's 
bound  to  pick  up  again.  I  might  do  myself 
very  well  there — with  a  proper  start. ' ' 

"But  you  are  thinking  always  of  money!" 
broke  in  Christian,  sharply  once  again. 
"Suppose  that  there  was  no  question  of 
money — suppose,  what  shall  I  say?  that  you 
had  twelve  hundred  a  year,  secure  to  you 
without  any  effort  of  your  own — what  would 
you  do  then?" 

This  seemed  very  simple  to  Augustine. 
"I  would  do  whatever  you  wanted  me  to 
do,"  he  replied,  with  fervor. 

Christian  shrugged  his  shoulders,  and 
dismissed  him  with  a  gesture.  "We  will 
speak  again  about  it,"  he  said  coldly,  and 
turned  away. 

Descending  the  great  staircase  a  few 
minutes  later,  Christian  entered  the  door 
which  Barlow  had  been  waiting  to  open  for 
him — and  made  his  first  public  appearance 
as  the  dispenser  of  Caermere's  hospitality. 
517 


GLORIA  MUNDI 

The  guests,  after  the  old  mid-day  fashion 
of  the  place,  were  already  for  the  most  part 
gathered  in  the  large  dining-hall,  and  stood 
or  sat  in  groups  upon  the  side  pierced  by 
the  tall  windows.  These  guests  did  not 
dissemble  the  interest  with  which  they  from 
time  to  time  directed  glances  across  to  the 
other  side,  where  a  long  table,  laid  for 
luncheon,  put  in  evidence  a  grateful  pro 
fusion  of  cold  joints  and  made-dishes. 

A  pleased  rustle  of  expectancy  greeted 
Christian's  advent,  but  it  seemed  that  this 
did  not,  for  the  moment  at  least,  involve 
food  and  drink.  He  strolled  over  to  the 
company,  and,  as  he  exchanged  words  here 
and  there,  kept  an  attentive  eye  busy  in 
taking  stock  of  its  composition.  There  were 
some  forty  persons  present,  of  whom  three- 
fourths,  apparently,  were  county  people.  A 
few  casual  presentations  forced  themselves 
upon  him,  but  the  names  of  the  new 
acquaintances  established  no  foothold  in  his 
memory.  He  smiled  and  murmured  words 
which  he  hoped  were  seasonable — but  all  the 
while  he  was  scanning  the  assemblage  with 
a  purpose  of  his  own. 

At  last  he  came  to  Kathleen,  and  was  able 
to  have  a  private  word  in  her  ear.  "I  do 
not  see  her  anywhere, ' '  he  whispered. 

"I  could  not  prevail  upon  her  to  come  in 
518 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

to  lunch,"  she  answered;  "I  imagine  it  is 
partly  a  question  of  clothes.  But  she  is 
being  looked  out  for.  And  afterward  I  will 
take  charge  of  her  again,  if  you  like — 

though " 

The  sentence  remained  unfinished,  as  she 
took  the  arm  Christian  offered  her,  at  Bar 
low's  eloquent  approach. 


CHAPTER    XXV 

During  the  progress  of  the  luncheon, 
-Christian  found  no  opportunity  for  intimate 
conversation  with  Emanuel's  wife.  The 
elderly  and  ponderously  verbose  Lord  Chob- 
ham  sat  upon  her  right ;  there  was  the  thin- 
faced,  exigeant  wife  of  some  clerical  person 
in  gaiters — a  rural  dean,  was  it  not? — full  of 
dogmatic  commonplaces,  on  his  left.  The 
other  people  did  not  seem  to  talk  so  much. 
The  scene  down  the  table — with  so  much 
black  cloth  offset  garishly  against  the  white 
linen  in  the  daylight — presented  an  effect  of 
funereal  sobriety,  curiously  combined  with 
a  spontaneous  reaction  of  the  natural  man 
against  this  effect.  The  guests  ate  steadily, 
and  with  energy;  Christian  noted  with 
interest  how  freely  they  also  drank.  For 
himself,  he  could  not  achieve  an  appetite, 
but  thirst  was  in  the  air.  He  lifted  his  glass 
bravely  to  Lord  Julius,  whose  massive  bulk 
and  beard  confronted  him  at  the  other  end 
of  the  table — and  then  to  others  whose 
glance  from  time  to  time  caught  his. 

Once  he  found  the  chance  to  murmur  to 
521 


GLORIA    MUNDI 

Kathleen:  "When  this  is  over,  I  hope  you 
will  manage  it  so  that  I  may  speak  with 
you." 

She  nodded  slow  assent,  without  looking 
at  him.  He,  observing  her  profile,  realized 
all  at  once  that  something  was  amiss  with 
her.  It  came  back  to  him  now  that  a  certain 
intensity  of  sadness  had  dwelt  in  the  first 
glance  they  had  exchanged  that  morn 
ing,  upon  meeting.  At  the  time  he  had 
referred  it  to  the  general  aspect  of  woe 
which  people  put  on  at  funerals.  He  saw 
now  that  it  was  a  grief  personal  to  herself. 
And  now  that  he  thought  of  it,  too,  there 
had  been  much  the  same  stricken  look  upon 
Emanuel's  face.  It  was  incredible  that  they 
should  be  thus  devoured  by  grief  at  the  fact 
of  his  grandfather's  death.  No  one  had 
liked  that  old  man  overmuch — but  surely 
they  least  of  all.  The  emotion  of  Lord 
Julius  was  more  intelligible — and  yet  even 
this  had  a  quality  of  broken  dejection  in  it 
which  seemed  independent  of  Caermere's 
cause  for  mourning. 

The  disquieting  conviction  that  these 
dearly  beloved  cousins  of  his — these  ineffably 
tender  and  generous  friends  of  his — were 
writhing  under  some  trouble  unknown  to 
him,  took  more  definite  shape  in  his  mind 
with  each  new  glance  that  he  stole  at  her. 
522 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

Once  the  thought  sprang  up  that  they  might 
be  unhappy  because  such  a  huge  sum  of 
money  had  been  given  to  him,  but  on  the 
instant  he  hated  himself  for  being  capable 
of  formulating  such  a  monstrous  idea.  The 
wondering  solicitude  which  all  this  raised 
within  him  possessed  his  thoughts  for  the 
rest  of  the  meal.  He  was  consumed  with 
impatience  to  get  away  so  that  he  might 
question  Kathleen  about  it. 

Yet  when  at  last  he  found  himself  beside 
her,  standing  before  an  old  portrait  in  one  of 
the  chain  of  big  rooms  through  which  the 
liberated  company  had  dispersed  itself,  this 
was  just  the  question  for  which  it  seemed 
that  no  occasion  would  offer. 

She  began  speaking  to  him  at  once.  "The 
young  lady — Miss  Bailey,  I  should  say — has 
gone  for  a  walk — so  Falkner  learns  from 
some  of  the  women.  They  have  the  impres 
sion  that  she  is  coming  back — but  I  don't 
know  that  I  feel  quite  so  sure  about  it." 

Christian's  face  visibly  lengthened.  "It's 
very  awkward,"  he  said,  with  vague  annoy 
ance.  "They  do  not  arrange  things  in  a 
very  talented  fashion,  these  people  of  mine." 

"But    what    could     they    arrange?"    she 

argued.     An  indefinable  listlessness  in  her 

tone  struck  him.     "It  is  a  free  country,  you 

know,   and  this  is  the  nineteenth  century. 

523 


GLORIA  MUNDI 

They  cannot  bodily  capture  a  young  woman 
and  keep  her  in  the  Castle  against  her  will. 
As  I  told  you,  I  had  difficulty  in  persuading 
her  to  come  at  all. ' ' 

"Ah,  what  did  you  say  to  her?"  he  asked, 
eagerly. 

"I  can  hardly  tell  you.  She  is  not  an 
ordinary  person — and  I  know  only  that  I 
tried  not  to  say  ordinary  things  to  her.  But 

What  it  was  that  I  did  say ' '     She  broke 

off  with  an  uncertain  gesture,  and  a  sigh. 

"Ah,  you  saw  that  she  was  not  ordinary!" 
said  Christian,  admiringly.  "I  should  love 
dearly  to  hear  what  you  really  think  of  her 
—the  impression  that  she  makes  upon  you. ' ' 
Kathleen  roused  herself  and  turned  to  him. 
"Do  you  truly  mean  it,  Christian?"  she 
asked  him,  gravely. 

"Do  you  blame  me?"  he  rejoined,  with 
uneasy  indirection. 

She  pressed  her  lips  together,  and  stared 
up  at  the  picture  with  a  troubled  face.  "I 
know  so  little  of  her,"  she  protested.  "You 
put  too  big  a  responsibility  upon  me.  It  is 
more  than  I  am  equal  to." 

With  a  sudden  gust  of  self-reproach,  he 
perceived  afresh  the  marks  of  suffering  in 
her  countenance,  and  recalled  his  anxiety. 
"Take  my  arm,"  he  said,  softly,  "and  let  us 
go  on  into  the  next  room.  There  is  a 
524 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

terrace  there,  I  think.  Forgive  me  for 
troubling  you,"  he  added,  as  they  moved 
forward.  "I  ought  to  have  seen  that  you 
are  not  well — that  you  have  something  on 
your  mind. '  * 

She  did  not  answer  him  immediately. 
44 It  is  Emanuel  who  is  not  well."  she  said, 
after  a  pause. 

Christian  uttered  a  formless  little  excla 
mation  of  grieved  astonishment.  "Oh,  it  is 
nothing  serious?"  he  whispered  implor 
ingly. 

She  shook  her  head  in  a  doubtful  way. 
4 'No,  I  think  not — that  is,  not  irrevocably. 
But  he  has  worked  too  hard.  He  has  broken 
down  under  the  strain.  We  are  going  away 
for  a  long  journey — to  rest,  and  forget  about 
the  System. ' ' 

He  bent  his  head  to  look  into  her  eyes 

trusting  his  glance  to  say  the  things  which 
his  lips  shrank  from  uttering.  A  window 
stood  open,  and  they  passed  out  upon  a  broad 
stone  terrace,  shaded  and  pleasant  under  a 
fresh  breeze  full  of  forest  odors. 

"Oh — the  System" — he  ventured  to  say,  as 
they  stood  alone  here,  and  she  lifted  her  head 
to  breathe  in  the  revivifying  air — "I  felt 
always  that  it  was  too  much  for  one  man. 
The  load  was  too  great.  It  would  crush  the 
most  powerful  man  on  earth." 
525 


GLORIA    MUNDI 

She  nodded  reflective  assent.  "Oh,  yes 
— I'm  afraid  I  hated  it,"  she  confessed  to 
him,  in  a  murmur  full  of  contrition. 

"But  he  is  going  away  now,"  urged  Chris 
tian,  hopefully.  "You  will  have  him  to  your 
self — free  from  care,  seeing  strange  and 
beautiful  new  places — as  long  as  you  like. 
Ah,  then  soon  enough  that  gaiety  of  yours 
will  return  to  you.  Why,  it  is  such  a  shock 
to  me  to  think  of  you  as  sad,  depressed — 
you  who  are  by  nature  so  full  of  joy  and  high 
spirits.  Ah,  but  be  sure  they  will  all  return 
to  you!  I  make  no  doubt  whatever  of  that. 
And  Emanuel,  too — he  will  get  rested  and 
strong,  and  be  happy  as  he  never  was  before 
— the  dear  fellow ! ' ' 

She  smiled  at  him  in  wan,  affectionate 
fashion.  "All  the  courage  has  gone  out  of 
me,"  she  said.  "Will  it  be  coming  back 
again?  God  knows!" 

"But  surely "  Christian  began,  with 

hearty  confidence. 

She  interrupted  him.  "What  I  am  fearful 
of — it  is  not  so  much  his  health,  strictly 
speaking — but  the  terrible  unsettling  blow 
that  all  this  means  to  him.  It  is  like  the 
death  of  a  beautiful  only  child  to  the  fondest 
of  fathers.  It  tears  his  heart  to  pieces.  He 
loved  his  work  so  devotedly — it  was  so  wholly 
a  part  of  his  life — and  to  have  to  give  it  up! 
526 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

He  says  he  is  reconciled.  Poor  man,  he 
tried  with  all  his  strength  to  make  himself 
believe  that  he  is.  I  catch  him  forcing  a 
smile  on  his  face  when  he  sees  me  looking  at 
him — and  that  is  the  hardest  of  all  for  me  to 
bear.  But  I  don't  know" — she  drew  a  long 
breath,  and  gazed  with  a  wistful  brightening 
in  her  eyes  at  the  placid  hills  and  sky — "it 
may  work  itself  out  for  the  best.  As  you 
say — when  we  get  away  alone  together,  ah, 
that  is  where  love  like  ours  will  surely  tell. 
I  do  wrong  to  harbor  any  doubts  at  all. 
When  two  people  love  each  other  as  we  do — 
ah,  Christian,  boy,  there's  nothing  else  in  all 
the  world  to  equal  that ! ' ' 

He  inclined  his  head  gravely,  to  mark  his 
reverential  sympathy  with  her  mood. 

"Ah,  but  you  know  nothing  of  it  at  all," 
she  went  on.  "You're  just  a  lad — and  love 
is  no  more  to  be  understood  by  instinct  than 
any  other  great  wisdom.  Millions  of  people 
pass  through  life  talking  about  love — and 
they  would  stare  with  surprise  if  you  told 
them  they  never  had  had  so  much  as  a 
glimmer  of  the  meaning  of  it.  They  use  the 
name  of  love  in  all  the  matings  of  young 
couples — and  there's  hardly  once  in  a  thou 
sand  times  that  it  isn't  blasphemy  to  mention 
it.  Do  you  know  what  most  marriages  are? 
Life- sentences!  If  you  have  means  and 
527 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

intelligence,  you  make  your  prison  tolerable ; 
you  can  get  used  to  it,  and  even  grow 
dependent  upon  it — but  it  is  a  prison  still. 
The  best-behaved  convict  eyes  his  warder 
with  a  cruel  thought  somewhere  at  the  back 
of  his  mind.  Do  you  remember — when  you 
left  us  the  first  time,  I  begged  you  to  be  in 
no  haste  to  marry?" 

He  bowed  again.  "Oh,  yes,  I  remember 
it  all,"  he  said,  soberly. 

"I  have  come  to  feel  so  strongly  upon 
that  subject,"  she  explained.  "It  seems  to 
me  more  important  than  all  others  combined. 
It  is  the  last  thing  in  the  world  that  should 
be  decided  upon  an  impulse,  or  a  passing 
fancy — yet  that  is  just  what  happens  all 
about  us.  The  books  are  greatly  to  blame 
for  that.  They  talk  as  if  only  boys  and  girls 
knew  what  love  meant.  They  flatter  the 
young  people,  and  turn  their  empty  heads, 
with  the  notion  that  their  idlest  inclinations 
are  very  probably  sacred  emotions — which 
they  may  trust  to  burn  brightly  in  a  pure 
flame  all  their  lives.  The  innocent  simple 
tons  rush  to  light  this  penny  dip  that  is  war 
ranted  to  blaze  eternally,  and  in  a  week  or  a 
month  they  are  in  utter  darkness.  We 
trembled  lest  you,  coming  so  suddenly  into 
a  new  life,  should  meet  with  that  mis 
fortune." 

528 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

He  smiled  faintly  at  her.  "You  see,  I 
have  not,"  he  commented. 

She  regarded  him  thoughtfully,  "it  is 
impossible  to  make  rules  for  others  in  these 
matters,"  she  observed,  "but  there  is  this 
thing  to  be  said.  True  love  must  be  built 
upon  absolutely  true  friendship;  there  can 
be  no  other  foundation  for  it.  You  will 
often  see  two  men  who  are  fond  of  each 
other.  They  delight  in  being  together. 
Very  often  you  cannot  imagine  what  is  the 
tie  between  them — and  they  would  not  be 
able  to  tell  you.  They  just  like  to  be 
together — even  though  they  may  not  speak 
for  hours,  and  may  be  as  different  in  temper 
ament  as  chalk  and  cheese.  That  is  the 
essence  of  friendship — and  you  cannot  have 
love  without  it.  The  man  and  the  woman 
must  have  the  all-powerful  sense  of  ideal 
companionship  ;between  them.  They  must 
be  able  to  say  with  truth  to  themselves  that 
the  world  will  always  be  richer  to  them 
together  than  apart.  There  may  be  many 
other  elements  in  love,  but  there  can  be 
no  love  at  all  without  this  element.  But 
you  wonder  why  I  am  saying  all  this  to 
you." 

He  made  a  deprecatory  gesture  of  the 
hands.  "I  am  always  charmed  when  you 
talk  to  me,  I  have  been  remembering  that 
529 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

dear  home  of  yours,  and  how  inexpressibly 
good  you  were  to  me.  I  prize  that  memory 
so  fondly!" 

She  smiled  with  an  approach  to  her  old 
gaiety  of  manner.  "You  were  like  a  son  of 
our  own  to  us.  And  so  we  think  of  you 
now — as  if  you  were  ours. ' ' 

"And  with  what  munificence  you  have 
treated  me !"  he  exclaimed,  fervently. 

"And  why  not?  For  whom  else  would  we 
be  laying  up  our  money?  Oh,  there  was  no 
difference  of  opinion  about  that.  Months 
ago  it  was  decided  that  when  you  came  into 
Caermere  you  should  come  into  everything." 

"I  feared  that  Emanuel  would  be  angry — 
disappointed — at  my  not  taking  up  his  work 
— but  truly  I  could  not.  It  wouldn't  be  easy 
to  explain  to  you — but 

"No — let  us  not  go  into  reasons.  He  had 
no  feeling  about  it  whatever.  How  should 
he?  It  would  have  been  as  reasonable  to  be 
vexed  because  the  lenses  of  his  spectacles 
did  not  fit  your  eyes.  And  Emanuel  is 
reasonableness  itself.  No — the  experiment 
was  quite  personal  to  himself.  Without 
him,  it  could  not  have  gone  on  at  all.  It 
will  not  go  on  now,  when  he  leaves  it  to 
others.  We  make  some  little  pretense  that 
it  will — but  we  know  in  our  hearts  that  it 
won't.  And  there  was  a  fatal  fault  in  it.  to 
530 


GLORIA  MUNDI 

begin  with,  that  would  have  killed  it  sooner 
or  later,  in  any  case." 

"I  know  what  you  mean,"  he  interposed, 
with  sensitive  intuition.  "There  was  no 
proper  place  in  it  for  women.  'The  very 
corner-stone  of  the  System  was  the  perpet 
ual  enslavement  of  women' — or  rather,  I 
should  say" — he  stumbled  awkwardly  as  the 
sweeping  form  of  the  quotation  revealed 
itself  to  him — "I  should  say,  it  did  not  pro 
vide  women  with  the  opportunities  which — 
which " 

Kathleen  also  had  her  intuitions.  "May  I 
ask? — it  sounds  as  if  you  were  repeating  a 
remark — was  it  Miss  Bailey  who  said  that 
about  the  corner-stone?" 

Christian  bit  his  lip  and  flushed  con 
fusedly.  "Yes— I  think  those  were  her 
words,"  he  confessed.  "But  you  must 
remember, "he  added,  eager  to  minimize 
the  offense — "it  was  in  the  course  of  a  long 
discussion  on  the  whole  subject,  and  she ' ' 

"The  dear  girl!"  said  Kathleen,  with  a 
sigh  of  relief. 

"Ah,  but  you  would  love  her!"  he  cried, 
excitedly  perceiving  the  significance  of  her 
words.  "She  has  the  noblest  mind— calm 
and  broad  and  serene — and  so  fine  a  nature 
— I  know  you  would  love  her!" 

Kathleen  put   a  hand   on   his   arm,  with 
531 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

motherly  directness.  "But  do  you  love 
her?"  she  asked. 

To  his  own  considerable  surprise  he  hesi 
tated.  "I  have  that  feeling  of  deep  friend 
ship  that  you  described,"  he  said,  slowly. 
"The  charm  of  being  where  she  is  is  like 
nothing  else  to  me.  I  cannot  think  that  it 
would  ever  lose  its  force  for  me.  I  get  the 
effect  of  drawing  strength  and  breadth  of 
thought  and  temper  from  her,  when  I  am 
with  her.  I  would  rather  spend  my  life  with 
her  for  my  companion  than  any  other  woman 
I  have  ever  seen.  That  is  what  you  mean, 
is  it  not?" 

"Partly,"  she  made  enigmatic  response. 
"But — now  you  mustn't  answer  me  if  I 
ask  what  I've  no  business  to  ask — but  the 
suspicion  came  to  me  while  you  were  speak 
ing — I  am  right,  am  I  not,  in  thinking  that 
you  have  said  all  this  to  her?" 

"Yes,"  he  admitted  with  palpable  reluc 
tance,  "and  she  would  not  listen  to  me. 
Only  a  few  hours  before  I  heard  the  news 
of  my  grandfather's  death,  I  asked  her  to  be 
my  wife,  and  she  refused.  She  seemed  very 
resolute.  And  yet  she  has  some  of  that 
same  feeling  of  friendship  for  me.  She  said 
that  she  had  always  a  deep  interest  in  me. 
She  had  read  books — very  serious  books — in 
order  to  be  able  to  advise  me,  if  the  chance 
532 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

ever  came.  All  that  bespeaks  friendship, 
surely!  And  her  coming  here,  to  look  on 
and  still  not  be  seen— you  said  yourself  that 
she  was  distressed  at  being  discovered— is 
not  that  the  act  of  warm  friendship?" 

Kathleen  pondered  her  reply.  She  looked 
away  at  the  nearest  hills  across  the  river  for 
some  moments,  with  her  gaze  riveted 
fixedly  as  if  in  an  absorption  of  interest. 
Without  moving  her  head,  she  spoke  at  last : 
"You  have  a  good  deal  to  say  about  friend 
ship.  It  is  my  fault— I  introduced  the  word 
and  insisted  on  it — but  did  you  also  lay  such 
stress  upon  this  'friendship'  to  her?" 

4 'You  do  not  know  her  nature,"  he  assured 
her.  "There  is  nothing  weak  or  common 
place  in  it.  One  does  not  talk  to  her  as  to 
an  ordinary  woman — as  you  yourself  said. 
I  begged  her  to  join  her  life  to  mine,  and 
I  put  the  plea  on  the  highest  possible 
grounds.  All  that  I  have  repeated  to  you, 
and  much  more,  I  said  to  her— how  great 
was  my  need  of  her,  how  lofty  her  character 
seemed  to  me,  how  all  my  life  I  should 
revere  her,  and  gain  strength  and  inspiration 
from  being  with  her." 

"H—  m,"  said  Kathleen. 

"Do  you  mean— ?"he  began,  regarding  his 
companion    wonderingly  —  "was    that    not 
enough?      Remember    the  kind  of  woman 
533 


GLORIA  MUNDI 

she  is — proud  of  her  independence,  occupied 
with  large  thoughts,  not  to  be  appealed  to 
by  any  but  the  highest  motives — a  creature 
who  disdains  the  sentimental  romances  of 
inferior  women — do  you  mean  that  there 
should  have  been  something  more?  I  do 
love  her — and  should  I  have  told  her  so  in 
so  many  words?" 

14 I'm  afraid  that's  our  foible,"  she  made 
answer.  On  the  face  that  she  turned  to 
him,  something  like  the  old  merry  light 
was  shining.  "You  goose!"  she  scolded  at 
him,  genially. 

His  eyes  sparkled  up  as  with  a  light  from 
her  own.  "Oh,  I  will  make  some  excuse, 
and  get  away  from  these  people,  and  find 
her,"  he  cried.  "She  will  be  returning,  if 
not  here,  then  to  the  inn,  down  below  the 
church,  don't  you  think?  There  would  be 
nothing  out  of  the  way  in  my  riding  down, 
would  there?  Or  if  I  sent  a  man  down  with 
a  letter,  appealing  to  her  not  to  go  away — 
telling  her  why?  There  is  no  earthly  reason 
why  she  should  not  stop  here  at  the  Castle. 
Her  sister  is  here — why,  of  course,  she 
belongs  quite  to  the  family  party.  How  dull 
of  me  not  to  have  thought  of  that!  Of 
course,  Cora  can  go  and  fetch  her." 

"I  think  I  would  leave  Cora  out  of  it," 
Kathleen  advised  him.  "There  is  nothing 

534 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

that  you  cannot  do  better  yourself.  Come 
here!  Do  you  see  that  patch  of  reddish 
stain  on  the  hill  there,  above  the  poplars 
where  the  iron  has  colored  the  rock?  Well, 
look  to  the  right,  on  the  ledge  just  a  bit 
higher  up — there  is  Miss  Bailey.  I  have 
been  watching  her  for  some  minutes.  She 
has  been  round  the  hill ;  the  path  she  is  on 
will  lead  her  to  the  Mere  Copse — and  to  the 
heath  beyond  the  orchards." 

His  eyes  had  found  the  moving  figure, 
microscopic  yet  unmistakable  in  the  sunshine 
against  the  verdant  face  of  the  hill — and  they 
dwelt  upon  it  for  a  meditative  moment. 

Then  he  turned  to  Kathleen,  and  took  her 
hand,  and  almost  wrung  it  in  his  own.  "Do 
let  us  go  in!"  he  urged  her,  with  exultant 
eagerness. 


536' 


CHAPTER    XXVI 

Christian,  professing  to  himself  momen 
tarily  that  the  chance  to  get  away  from  his 
guests  was  at  hand,  discovered  that  his 
escape,  all  the  same,  was  no  easy  matter. 

Kathleen  had  disappeared  somewhere,  and 
without  her  he  seemed  curiously  helpless. 
He  did  not  as  yet  know  the  house  well 
enough  to  be  sure  about  its  exits.  The 
result  of  one  furtive  attempt  at  flight  was  to 
find  himself  in  the  midst  of  a  group  of 
county  people,  who  fell  back  courteously  at 
his  approach  and,  as  if  by  design,  let  him 
become  involved  in  a  quite  meaningless  con 
versation  with  a  purple-faced,  bull-necked 
old  gentleman  whose  name  he  could  not 
remember.  This  person  talked  at  tremen 
dous  length,  producing  his  words  in  gur 
gling  spasms ;  his  voice  was  so  husky  and  his 
manner  so  disconcerting — not  to  mention  the 
peculiarities  of  the  local  dialect  in  which  he 
spoke — that  Christian  could  make  literally 
nothing  of  his  remarks.  He  maintained  a 
vapid  listener's-smile,  the  while  his  eyes 
roamed  despondently  about  the  room,  and 
537 


GLORIA  MUNDI 

what  he  could  see  of  the  next  apartment,  in 
search  of  some  relief.  If  he  could  hit  upon 
Dicky  Westland — or  even  Edward  or  Augus 
tine! 

It  became  apparent  to  him,  at  last,  that 
his  interlocutor  was  discoursing  on  the  sub 
ject  of  dogs.  Of  course — it  would  be  about 
the  Caermere  hounds.  On  the  grave  faces 
of  those  about  him,  who  stood  near  enough 
to  hear  the  sounds  of  this  mysterious  mon 
ologue,  he  read  signs  that  they  considered 
themselves  a  party  to  it.  It  was  on  their 
behalf  as  well  as  his  own  that  the  old  gentle 
man  was  haranguing  him — and  he  swiftly 
perceived  the  necessity  of  paying  better 
attention. 

"The  hounds— yes,"  he  said,  after  a  little. 
"I  have  been  making  inquiries  about  them. 
I  am  advised  that  they  cannot  be  kept  up 
properly  for  less  than  four  thousand  five 
hundred  a  year." 

4 'Up  to  Lord  Porlock's  death,  we  had 
something  like  twenty-four  hundred  pounds 
from  the  Castle,  and  we  made  a  whip-round 
among  ourselves,"  the  other  replied,  "for 
the  rest.  With  corn  what  it  is,  and  rents 
what  they  are,  we're  all  so  poor  now  that 
it'll  be  harder  than  ever  to  get  subscriptions, 
but  we'll  try  to  do  our  share  if  the  Castle '11 
meet  us  half-way. ' ' 

538 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

Christian  felt  that  he  liked  being  referred 
to  as  "the  Castle."  Moreover,  an  idea  sud 
denly  took  shape  in  his  mind.  "My  uncle, 
Lord  Porlock,  was  the  Master,"  he  said. 
"And  before  him  my  grandfather,  I 
believe.  But  what  has  been  done  since  Lord 
Porlock 's  death — about  a  new  Master,  I 
mean?" 

Out  of  the  complicated  response  made  to 
this  question  he  gathered  vaguely  that  noth 
ing  had  been  done — that  nothing  could  have 
been  done. 

"My  cousin,  Captain  Torr,  is  a  hunting 
man,  I  think. ' '  He  threw  out  the  question 
with  some  diffidence,  and  was  vastly  re 
lieved  to  see  the  faces  brighten  about  him. 

"None  better,  by  God!"  affirmed  the  old 
gentleman,  with  vehemence,  and  there  fol 
lowed  a  glowing  and  spluttering  eulogium 
of  Edward's  sportsmanlike  qualities  and 
achievements,  in  the  middle  of  which  Chris 
tian  recalled  that  the  speaker  was  Sir  George 
Dence. 

"I  like  the  Mastership  to  continue  in  the 
family,  Sir  George,"  he  replied,  suavely 
proud  of  the  decision  he  had  leaped  to.  "I 
think  I  shall  suggest  to  you  that  Captain 
Edward  take  the  hounds,  and  that,  for  a 
time  at  least,  you  allow  the  Castle  to  be  at 
the  entire  expense.  At  all  events,  you  have 

539 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

my    annual    subscription   of   five   thousand 
pounds  to  begin  upon." 

He  made  a  dignified  half-bow  in  the 
silence  which  ensued,  and  boldly  moved 
away.  The  murmur  of  amazed  admiration 
which  rose  behind  him  was  music  in  his  ears. 

Visions  of  possible  escape  rose  for  the 
moment  before  him.  He  walked  with  an 
air  of  resolution  through  the  next  room,  try 
ing  to  remember  whither  the  corridor  out 
side  led — but  at  the  doorway  he  stopped  face 
to  face  with  Lord  Lingfield. 

"Ah,"  said  his  cousin,  amiably,  "I  did 
not  know  if  I  should  see  you  again.  I 
thought  perhaps  that  you  had  gone  to  lie 
down.  Funerals  take  it  out  of  one  so,  don't 
they?  My  father  is  quite  seedy  since  lunch, 
and  poor  Lady  Cressage  has  the  most 
wretched  headache!  I  think  myself  she'd 
do  better  not  to  travel  while  it  lasts,  but 
she's  anxious  to  get  away,  and  so  we're  all 
of!  by  the  evening  train. " 

"Oh,  I  didn't  dream  of  your  hurrying  off 
like  this,"  exclaimed  Christian,  sincerely 
enough.  "But  if  you  are  set  upon  it — come, 
let's  find  your  father.  It  will  seem  as  if  I 
had  neglected  him. " 

"He's  in  his  room,"  explained  Lord  Ling- 
field,  as  they  moved  away  together,  "getting 
into  some  heavier  clothes.     The   evenings 
540 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

are  chilly  here  in  the  hills,  and  we're  to  start 
almost  immediately,  and  take  the  long  drive 
round  through  the  forest.  Lady  Cressage 
has  talked  so  much  of  it,  and  we've  never 
seen  it,  you  know." 

4 'But  this  is  all  too  bad!"  urged  Christian. 
"You  rush  away  before  I  have  had  time  to 
have  a  word  with  any  of  you.  There  is  no 
urgent  reason  for  such  haste,  is  there  now, 
really?" 

"Lady  Cressage  seems  anxious  to  go," 
answered  the  other,  with  a  kind  of  signifi 
cance  in  his  solemn  voice.  "And  of  course — 
since  she  came  with  us " 

Christian  stole  a  quick  glance  at  his  kins 
man,  and  as  swiftly  looked  away.  "If  she 
prefers  it — of  course, ' '  he  commented  with 
brevity. 

"Do  you  think  she  is  very  strong?"  asked 
Lord  Lingfield.  "I  have  a  kind  of  fear, 
sometimes,  that  her  health  is  not  altogether 
robust.  She  seemed  very  pale  to-day." 
There  was  a  note  of  obvious  solicitude  in  his 
voice. 

"She  has  a  headache,"  Christian  reminded 
him. 

"Yes,  that  would  account  for  it,  wouldn't 

it?"     The  young  man  was  visibly  relieved 

by   this   reflection.       "They  may  say  what 

they  like,"  he  went  on,   "she  is  the  most 

54i 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

beautiful  woman  in  London  to-day,  just  as 
she  was  when  she  was  married.  Let  me  see 
— I  am  not  sure  that  I  ever  knew  her  precise 
age.  Do  you  happen  to  know?" 

4 '  She  7.3  four-and-twenty. ' ' 

"Not  more!  I  should  have  said  six,  or 
at  least  five.  Hm-m!  Four-and-twenty!" 
The  reiteration,  for  some  reason,  seemed  to 
afford  him  pleasure.  "I  am  nearly  thirty 
myself,"  he  added  meditatively,  "and  I'm 
practically  sure  of  being  in  the  next  Govern 
ment.  Shall  you  go  in  much  for  politics,  do 
you  think?  It  wouldn't  be  of  any  great  use 
to  you,  except  the  Garter,  perhaps,  and  it's 
so  fearfully  slow  waiting  for  that.  My 
father  had  the  promise  of  it  as  long  ago  as 
Lord  John  Russell's  time,  and  it  hasn't 
come  off  yet.  But  then  that  Home  Rule 
business  was  so  unfortunate — it  sent  us  all 
over  to  the  Tory  side,  where  there  were 
already  more  people  waiting  for  things  than 
there  were  things  to  go  round.  If  I  were 
you,  I  would  keep  very  quiet  for  a  year  or 
two — not  committing  myself  openly  to  either 
side.  I  can't  help  thinking  there  will  be  a 
break-up.  It's  a  fearful  bore  to  have  only 
twenty  or  thirty  people  on  one  side  and  five 
hundred  on  the  other.  They  won't  stand  it 
much  longer.  It  doesn't  make  a  fair  dis 
tribution  of  things.  Of  course,  I'm  a 
542 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

Unionist,  but  if  I  were  in  your  shoes,  I'd 
think  it  over  very  carefully.  The  Liberals 
haven't  got  a  single  Duke — and  mind  you, 
though  people  don't  seem  to  notice  it,  it  is 
a  fact  that  a  party  practically  never  succeeds 
itself.  The  Liberals  are  bound  to  come  in, 
sooner  or  later — and  then,  if  you  were  their 
only  Duke,  why,  you'd  get  your  Garter  shot 
at  you  out  of  a  gun — so  to  speak.  Of  course, 
I  mustn't  be  mentioned  as  saying  this — but 
you  think  it  over!  And  it  needn't  matter  in 
the  least — our  being  in  different  parties. 
We  can  help  each  other  quite  as  well — 
indeed,  sometimes  I'm  tempted  to  think  even 
better.  Of  course,  I  dare  say  there  won't 
be  much  that  I  can  do  for  you — for  the  next 
two  or  three  years,  at  least — except  in  the 
way  of  advice,  and  tips,  and  that  sort  of 
thing — but  there  may  be  a  number  of  mat 
ters  that  you  can  help  me  in. ' ' 

Christian  nodded  wearily — with  a  nervous 
thought  upon  the  time  being  wasted.  "I 
am  not  likely  to  forget  your  kindness — or  our 
family  ties,"  he  said,  consciously  evasive. 

"You  never  saw  Cressage,  of  course; 
awful  beast'"  remarked  the  other,  with  an 
irrelevancy  which  still  struck  the  listener  as 
having  a  certain  method  in  it.  "It  makes  a 
man  furious  to  think  what  she  must  have 
suffered  with  him.  And  a  mere  child,  too, 
543 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

when  she  was  married.  Only  four-and- 
twenty  now !  These  early  marriages  are  a 
great  mistake.  Of  course,  when  a  man  gets 
to  be  nearly  thirty,  and  there  is  a  family  and 
property  and  so  on  to  be  handed  along,  why, 
then  marriage  becomes  a  duty.  That  has 
always  been  my  view.  And  I  try  invariably 
to  do  my  duty,  as  I  see  it.  I  think  a  man 
ought  to,  )^ou  know. ' ' 

Christian  sighed,  and  restrained  an 
impulse  to  look  at  his  watch.  They  had 
sauntered  forward  into  the  central  hallway; 
through  the  open  door  could  be  seen  a 
carriage  and  pair  drawn  up  before  the  steps. 
A  rustle  on  the  stairs  behind  him  caught  his 
ear,  and  turning,  Christian  beheld  Lady 
Cressage  descending  toward  him,  with  Lord 
Chobham  looming,  stately  and  severe,  in 
the  shadows  above  her. 

Christian  moved  impulsively  to  her.  "It 
was  the  greatest  surprise  to  me — and  dis 
appointment,  too — to  hear  that  you  were 
going  like  this,"  he  declared,  with  out 
stretched  hand. 

She  smiled  feebly,  and  regarded  him  with 
a  pensive  consideration.  Her  heavy  mourn 
ing  of  an  earlier  hour  had  been  exchanged 
for  a  black  garb  less  ostentatiously  funereal, 
yet  including  the  conventional  widow 's-fall, 
which  he  had  not  seen  her  wear  before. 
The  thought  that  here  at  Caermere,  last 

544 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

autumn,  she  had  not  even  worn  a  widow' s- 
cap,  rose  in  his  mind.  It  carried  with  it  a 
sense  of  remissness,  of  contumacy  as  against 
the  great  family  which  had  endowed  her 
with  one  of  its  names.  But  at  least  now  she 
exhibited  a  consciousness  that  her  husband 
was  less  than  a  year  dead.  And  her  pallid 
face  was  very  beautiful  in  its  frame  of  black 
— a  delicately  strong  face,  meditative, 
reserved,  holding  sadness  in  a  proud  re 
straint.  "I  am  not  very  well,"  she  said  to 
him,  in  tones  to  reach  his  ear  alone.  "The 
crowd  here  depressed  me.  I  could  not  bring 
myself  to  appear  at  luncheon.  It  seems 
better  that  I  should  go  away. ' ' 

"But  it  is  such  a  fatiguing  journey — for 
one  who  does  not  feel  wholly  up  to  it ! "  he 
urged  upon  her.  "All  these  strangers  will 
be  going — I  think  some  of  them  have  gone 
already.  I  don't  know  what  their  rule  is 
here  about  stopping  after  luncheon — but 
surely  they  must  clear  out  very  soon.  Then 
we  shall  be  quite  by  ourselves — so  that  if 
that  is  your  only  reason  for  going — why,  I 
can't  admit  that  it  is  a  reason  at  all." 

He  paused,  and  strove  to  cover  with  a 
halting  smile  his  sudden  perception  that 
they  were  not  talking  with  candor  to  each 
other.  There  were  things  in  her  mind, 
things  in  his  mind,  which  bore  no  relation 
545 


GLORIA  MUNDI 

to  the  words  they  uttered.  She  was  looking 
at  him  musingly — and  he  felt  that  he  could 
read  in  her  glance,  or  perhaps  gather  from 
what  there  was  not  in  her  glance,  that  she 
would  not  go  if  he  begged  her  with  sufficient 
earnestness  to  remain.  Nay,  the  conviction 
flashed  vividly  uppermost  in  his  thoughts 
that  even  a  tolerable  simulation  of  this 
earnestness  would  be  enough.  It  was  as  if 
a  game  were  being  played,  in  which  he  was 
not  quite  the  master  of  his  moves.  In  this 
mere  instant  of  time,  while  they  had  stood 
facing  each  other,  he  had  been  able  to  re 
produce  the  whole  panorama  of  his  contact 
with  this  beautiful  woman.  From  that  first 
memorable  day  when  she  had  come  into  his 
wondering,  distraught  vision  of  the  new  life 
before  him,  to  that  other  day  but  a  week  ago 
when  he  had  stood  trembling  with  passionate 
emotions  in  her  presence,  his  mental  pictures 
of  her  rose  connectedly  about  him.  They 
exerted  a  pressure  upon  his  will.  They  left 
him  no  free  agency  in  the  matter.  By  all 
the  chivalric,  tenderly  compassionate  mem 
ories  they  evoked,  he  must  bid  her  to  remain. 

1 '  I  am  very  sorry  that  you  feel  you  must 
go,"  was  what  he  heard  himself  say  instead. 

"Good-bye,"  she  answered  simply,  and 
gave  him  her  gloved  hand  with  an  impas 
sive  face.  "Lord  Chobham  and  Lord  Ling- 
546 


GLORIA    MUNDI 

field  are  good  enough  to  see  me  back  to 
London  again.  We  are  driving  round 
through  the  forest.  Our  people  are  to  join 
us  at  the  station  with  the  luggage.  Good 
bye." 

He  accompanied  the  party  out  to  the 
carriage  door,  despite  some  formal  doubts 
about  its  being  the  proper  thing  to  do. 
Both  father  and  son  made  remarks  to  him, 
to  which  he  seemed  to  himself  to  be  making 
suitable  answers,  but  what  they  were  about 
he  never  knew.  The  tragedy  of  Edith's  final 
departure  from  Caermere — she  who  had 
been  the  hostess  here  when  he  came;  she 
who  was  to  have  worn  the  coronet  on  her 
lovely  brow  as  the  mistress  of  it  all — seized 
upon  his  mind  and  harrowed  it.  A  vehe 
ment  self-reproach  that  his  thoughts  should 
have  done  her  even  momentary  injustice 
stung  him,  as  he  beheld  her  seated  in  the 
carriage.  She  smiled  at  him — that  wistful, 
subdued  smile  of  the  headache — and  then, 
as  the  horses  moved,  his  eyes  were  resting 
upon  another  smile  instead — the  beaming  of 
fatuous  content  upon  the  countenance  of 
Lord  Lingfield,  who  sat  facing  her. 

Christian,  regarding  this  second  cousin  of 
his  as  the  carriage  receded  from  view,  sud 
denly  breathed  a  long  sigh  of  relief. 

All  at  once  remembering  many  things,  he 
547 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

wheeled  with  the  impulse  to  run  up  the 
steps.  Upon  reflection,  he  ascended  them 
sedately  instead,  and  gave  orders  in  the  hall 
that  Mr.  Westland  should  be  sent  to  him  forth 
with.  Two  or  more  groups  of  departing 
guests  came  upon  him,  while  he  stood 
irresolutely  here,  and  he  bade  them  farewell 
with  formal  gravity.  The  two  parsons 
whom  he  had  seen  at  the  church  were 
among  them — attired  now  in  black  garments 
with  curiously  ugly  little  round,  flat  hats — 
and  he  noted  with  interest  that  their  smirk 
ing  deference  now  displeased  him  less  than 
it  had  done  in  the  morning.  He  perceived 
that  his  lungs  were  becoming  accustomed  to 
the  atmosphere  of  adulation,  and  smiled 
tolerantly  at  himself.  How  long  would  it 
be,  he  wondered  with  idle  amusement, 
before  it  would  stifle  him  to  breathe  any 
other  air? 

Augustine  had  sauntered  out  from  some 
unknown  quarter  into  the  hall,  and  Christian 
beckoned  to  him.  A  shapeless  kind  of  sus 
picion,  born  of  a  resemblance  now  for  the 
first  time  suggesting  itself,  had  risen  in  his 
brain.  He  took  the  young  man  by  the  arm, 
and  strolled  aside  with  him. 

"Am  I  wrong,"  he  asked  carelessly,  4'or 
did  I  see  you  at  the  supper  at  the  Hanover 
Theater?  Let  us  see — it  would  be  a  week 
548 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

ago  to-night?  I  thought  so.  Why  I  asked 
— I  was  curious  to  know  whom  you  were 
with.  It  was  a  young  man;  you  were  stand 
ing  together  between  some  scenery  as  I 
passed  you." 

"Oh!"  said  Augustine,  with  visible  reas 
surance.  "That  was  Tom  Bailey — Cora's 
brother,  you  know. ' ' 

"What  sort  is  he?"  Christian  pursued, 
secretly  astonished  at  the  inspired  accuracy 
of  his  intuition. 

"Well"— replied  the  other,  hesitatingly— 
"it's  rather  hard  to  say.  He  got  sent  down 
from  Cambridge  for  something  or  other,  and 
his  governor  got  the  needle  over  it,  and  put 
him  on  an  allowance  of  a  pound  a  week,  or 
something  like  that,  and  so  what  could  he 
do?  It's  jolly  hard  on  a  young  fellow  round 
town  to  have  less  money  than  anybody  else. 
He's  bound  to  get  talked  about,  if  he  only 
owes  half-a-crown  to  some  outsider  or  other, 
and  that  makes  other  fellows  turn  shirty. 
But  I  think  he  always  pays  when  he  can. ' ' 

"You  like  him,  then,  do  you?" 

"Oh,  yes — I  like  Tom  well  enough," 
answered  Augustine,  dubiously  pondering 
the  significance  of  the  interrogatory.  "He'd 
be  all  right  if — if  he  had  a  proper  chance. ' ' 
With  a  sigh,  he  ventured  to  add:  "He's 
like  the  rest  of  us — that  way. ' ' 

549 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

At  sight  of  Dicky  Westland's  approach, 
Christian  dropped  his  inquiries  abruptly. 
"All  right,"  he  said,  with  enigmatic 
brevity,  and  turned  to  his  secretary  with  a 
meaning  gesture.  "I  want  to  get  away 
from  here — out  of  the  Castle, ' '  he  murmured 
to  the  newcomer,  "without  a  minute's  delay. 
I  have  a — kind  of  appointment,  and  I  am 
already  late.  If  you  will  get  our  hats,  we 
will  walk  out  together,  as  if  we  were  discuss 
ing  some  private  matter,  and  then  no  one 
will  interrupt  us. ' ' 

This  confidence  was  only  partially  justified 
by  events.  The  two  made  their  way 
unmolested  into  the  open  air,  and  across 
some  long  stretches  of  lawn  to  the  beginning 
of  the  series  of  gardens.  It  was  within 
Christian's  memory  that  one  reached  the 
orchards  and  the  opening  upon  the  heath  by 
traversing  these  gardens.  But  in  the  second 
of  them,  where  remarkable  masses  of  tulips 
in  gorgeous  effulgence  of  bloom  occupied  the 
very  beds  in  which  he  believed  the  dahlias 
must  have  been  last  year,  there  was  some 
one  on  the  well-remembered  path  in  front  of 
him. 

A  little  child  of  two  or  three  years,  still 

walking  insecurely  at  least,   was  being  led 

along   the  edge  of  the   flower-border  by   a 

woman   in   black   whose    back  was  turned. 

550 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

The  infant  had  caught  the  notion  of  bending 
over  the  hyacinths,  one  by  one,  laboriously  to 
smell  their  perfume,  and  the  woman  indul 
gently  lent  herself  to  the  pastime,  halting 
and  supporting  the  little  one  by  the  hand. 

Christian  wondered  vaguely  what  child 
this  could  be,  before  observation  told  him 
that  the  person  they  were  approaching  was 
a  lady.  He  took  Dicky's  arm  then,  and 
quickened  their  step.  "We  will  be  very 
much  engaged  as  we  pass,"  he  admonished 
him.  After  a  few  paces,  however,  the  futility 
of  this  device  made  itself  apparent.  The 
lady,  glancing  indifferently  over  her  shoulder 
at  the  sound  of  their  tread,  turned  on  the 
instant  with  a  little  cry  of  pleasure. 

It  was  Cora  who  came  toward  them,  now 
radiant  of  face  and  with  an  extended  hand. 
She  dragged  the  surprised  child  heedlessly 
along  at  her  side  with  the  other  arm. 

"Oh,  Duke!"  she  cried.  "I  did  so  long 
to  burst  in  upon  you,  wherever  you  were  to 
be  found,  and  thank  you  when  I  heard.  It 
was  Sir  George  Dence  who  told  us.  And 
Eddy,  he's  quite  off  his  head  with  joy!  He 
wanted  to  look  you  up,  too,  but  I  told  him 
to  put  off  thanking  you  till  to-morrow; 
between  ourselves,  I  don't  fancy  he'll  be  seen 
quite  to  the  best  advantage  later  on  to-day. 
But  I  know  you'll  think  none  the  worse  of 

551 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

him  for  that ;  and  there's  a  good  bit  to  be  done, 
he  says,  in  the  way  of  pulling  the  Hunt 
together  again  to  work  like  one  man.  He's 
begun  already  promoting  the  right  sort  of 
feeling.  He's  got  Sir  George  and  old  Gen 
eral  Fawcett  and  about  a  dozen  more  of  'em 
in  the  billiard-room,  and  I  told  him  every 
thing  would  be  alt  right  so  long  as  they 
didn't  sing.  On  account  of  the  funeral,  you 
know.  And — why,  you've  never  seen  my 
oldest  unmarried  daughter!  Look  up  and 
say,  'How-de-do?'  Chrissy.  Why,  she's  your 
namesake!  Yes,  her  baptismal  name  is 
Christiana  or  Christina — which  is  it?  We 
always  call  her  Chrissy.  And  you  haven't 
told  me  what  an  effective  family  group  I 
make.  You  never  would  have  believed  that 
I  could  be  so  domestic,  now,  would  you?" 

She  had  gathered  the  child  up  into  her 
arms,  and  under  the  influence  of  her  jocund 
mood  Christian  smiled  cheerfully.  4 '  You  are 
very  wonderful  as  a  mother,"  he  assured 
her,  and  extended  a  tentative  finger  toward 
Chrissy,  who,  huddled  in  awkward  and 
twisted  discomfort  under  her  mother's 
elbow,  regarded  him  with  unconcealed 
repulsion. 

"She  seems  an  extremely  healthy  child," 
he  remarked,  and  the  words  were  not  so  per 
functory  as  they  sounded.     The  robust,  red- 
552 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

cheeked  heartiness  of  Chrissy  raised  musing 
reflections  in  his  mind.  If  this  infant,  with 
its  stout  mottled  arms  and  legs,  had  been  a 
boy,  it  would  be  at  this  moment  his  heir. 
No  one  could  ask  for  a  finer  child — and  she 
was  very  closely  akin  to  him.  And  Cora 
was  her  mother — and  Cora's  sister! 

"Oh,  but  where  are  we  going  to  live?"  she 
broke  in  upon  his  meditations.  "I  said  to 
Eddy  that  I'd  lay  odds  you  were  thinking  of 
David's  Court  for  us.  You  know  the  kennels 
used  to  be  there  before  Porlock's  time." 

"All  that  we  can  arrange,"  said  Christian, 
shaking  off  his  reverie,  and  lifting  his  hat. 
* '  Rest  easy  in  your  mind  about  everything. ' ' 

She  nodded  with  an  expansive  geniality 
which  freely  included  Dicky  as  well,  and 
then  walked  away.  It  slowly  occurred  to 
Christian  that  she  had  said  nothing  about 
her  sister's  presence  in  the  neighborhood, 
although  it  was  impossible  to  suppose  her 
ignorant  of  it.  Upon  consideration,  he 
decided  that  her  reticence  was  delicate.  He 
felt  that  he  liked  Cora,  and  then  uneasily 
speculated  upon  the  seeming  probability  that 
his  liking  for  her  was  in  excess  of  her 
sister's. 

"Westland,"  he  said,  with  a  new  thought 
in  his  busy  brain,  "you  know  about  geog 
raphy —  about  where  the  different  British 
557 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

colonies  are  on  the  map,  and  what  they  are 
distinguished  for.  I  want  to  know  of  a  good 
place,  a  very  long  way  off,  where  two  young 
men  with  a  moderate  capital  might  do  well, 
or  at  least  have  the  chance  to  do  well. ' ' 

"Fellows  like  that  generally  go  to  South 
Africa,  nowadays,"  replied  Dicky,  "though 
I  believe  it's  gone  off  a  bit.  It's  not  as  far 
away  as  Australia,  but  it's  livelier,  appar 
ently.  They  don't  seem  to  come  back  as 
much. ' ' 

"No;  I  have  a  prejudice  against  that 
Johannesburg.  It  is  not  a  good  atmosphere, 
and  it  is  too  easy  to  get  into  trouble  there." 

"There  are  great  reports  about  British 
Columbia  just  now.  They've  found  wonder 
ful  new  gold-fields,  and  they're  a  fearful 
distance  from  anywhere.  It  takes  you 
months  to  get  to  them,  so  I'm  told.  But  it 
depends  so  much  on  what  the  fellows  them 
selves  are  like.  If  I  may  ask,  do  I  know 
them?" 

"It  is  Augustine  Torr  that  I  have  in  mind, 
and  a  young  friend  of  his — Bailey  his  name 
is.  By  the  way,  a  brother  of  the  lady  we 
just  left." 

"I  know  <?/him, "  commented  Dicky  sen- 
tentiously. 

"Well,  it  has  occurred  to  me  that  these 
young  men,  for  whom  there  seems  no 
554 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

specially  suitable  foothold  in  England,  might 
accomplish  something  in  the  colonies.  That 
is  the  way  Greater  Britain,  as  they  call  it, 
has  been  made — by  young  men  who  might 
have  done  nothing  at  all  worth  doing  at 
home.  Life  is  really  very  difficult  and  com 
plicated  in  this  crowded  island,  unless  one 
has  exactly  the  temperament  to  succeed. 
But  in  the  colonies  it  is  different.  Men 
who  are  of  no  use  here  may  become  valuable 
there.  I  have  heard  that  there  are  many 
instances  of  this.  And  these  young  men,  it 
seems  to  me  that  very  possibly,  if  they  found 
themselves  on  new  ground,  they  might  do  as 
others  have  done  and  get  on.  We  do  not 
quite  know  what  to  do  with  them  here,  but 
we  send  them  out,  and  they  make  the 
Empire." 

"It's  rather  rough  on  the  Empire,  though, 
isn't  it?"  said  Dicky. 

Christian  frowned  and  drew  himself  up  a 
little.  "One  is  my  cousin,"  he  said  coldly, 
"and  the  other  is  the  brother  of — is  the 
brother  of  my  cousin's  wife." 

There  was  a  moment  of  silence,  and  then 
the  secretary,  as  upon  a  sudden  resolution, 
stopped.  "It's  no  good  my  going  on,"  he 
said,  nervously,  but  with  decision.  "I 
daresay  you  don't  mean  it,  but  all  the  same 
it's  too  much  for  me.  If  you  don't  mind,  I 
555 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

think  I'll  turn  it  up  and  catch  the  evening 
train.  I  don't  mind  going  to  the  station  in 
the  brake  with  the  servants  and  the  luggage. 
It  certainly  won't  take  anybody  by  surprise. ' ' 

Christian  regarded  him  with  open-eyed 
astonishment.  "I  don't  know  what  you're 
talking  about,"  he  said,  in  obvious  candor. 

Dicky  restlessly  threw  out  his  hands. 
"Oh,  I  can't  stand  this  Dukeness  of  yours," 
he  declared.  "You  put  it  on  too  thick.  I 
know  Gus  Torr,  and  I  know  as  much  as  I 
want  to  of  Tom  Bailey,  and  I  know  they're 
no  good,  and  you  know  it,  too — although  I 
don't  say  they  mayn't  get  on  in  the  colonies. 
God  knows  what  won't  get  on  there!  But 
when  I  make  some  perfectly  civil  and  natural 
remark  on  the  subject,  you  flame  up  at  me, 
and  blow  yourself  out  like  a  pouter  pigeon, 
and  say  they're — haw-haw! — relations  of 
yours.  Well,  that  be  damned,  you  know! 
It  may  do  once  in  a  way  with  outsiders,  but 
it  isn't  good  enough  to  live  with." 

"Dicky!"  said  Christian,  in  a  voice  of 
awed  appeal.  His  brown  face  distorted 
itself  in  lines  of  painful  bewilderment  as  he 
gazed  at  his  companion.  "Have  I  done 
that?  Is  it  as  bad  as  that?"  He  gasped 
the  questions  out  in  a  frightened  way  and 
tears  sprang  into  his  eyes.  "Then  it  is  not 
you  who  should  catch  the  evening  train,  but 
556 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

me.  I  am  not  fit  to  be  here!"  He  finished 
with  a  groan  of  bitter  dejection  and  bowed 
his  head. 

Westland,  as  much  scared  as  surprised  at 
the  violent  result  of  his  protest,  moved 
impetuously  to  his  friend  and  put  a  hand  on 
his  shoulder.  " No-no!  No-no,"  he  said,  in 
a  soothing  voice.  "It's  all  right !  I  said  you 
didn't  mean  it,  you  know.  Truly,  old  man, 
I  knew  you  didn't  mean  it!  Upon  my  word, 
it's  all  right!" 

Christian  lifted  his  head,  and  tried  to  choke 
down  his  agitation.  "But  you  go  away 
from  me!"  he  said  in  despairing  tones.  "It 
is  the  same  as  ever!  Nothing  is  changed  for 
me !  I  do  not  make  friends — much  less  keep 
them!" 

"But  I  am  your  friend!  You  are  keeping 
me ! ' '  Dicky  insisted,  raising  his  voice.  An 
odd  impulse  to  laugh  aloud  struggled  con 
fusedly  with  the  concern  the  other's  visible 
suffering  gave  him.  "I  take  it  all  back. 
I'm  stopping  with  you,  right  enough!" 

Christian  accepted  the  assurance  in  a  dazed 
way,  and  after  he  had  silently  shaken  the 
other's  hand,  began  walking  on  again, 
studying  the  ground  with  a  troubled  frown. 
"I  am  a  weak  and  dull  fool!"  he  growled  at 
last,  in  rage  at  himself.  "I  have  not  sense 
enough  to  behave  properly !  It  is  a  mistake 
557 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

that  I  should  be  put  over  anybody  else!     I 
make  myself  ridiculous,  like  any  parvenu. " 

"No— that's  all  rot,"  the  other  felt  it 
judicious  to  urge.  "You're  perfectly  all 
right,  only — only " 

"Only  I'm  not!"  Christian  filled  in  the  gap 
of  hesitation  with  an  angry  laugh. 

Gradually  a  calmer  view  of  himself  per 
vaded  his  mind.  "It  is  more  difficult  than 
you  think,  Dicky,  "he  affirmed,  after  a  pause. 
"It  is  not  easy  at  all— at  first — to — what 
shall  I  say? — to  keep  feeling  your  feet  under 
you  on  the  solid  ground.  The  temptation  to 
soar,  to  think  you  are  lifted  up,  is  upon  you 
every  minute.  It  catches  you  unawares. 
Ah !  I  see  one  must  watch  that  without  ceas 
ing.  Oh,  I  am  glad — more  glad  than  I  can 
tell  you — that  you  stopped  me.  Ah!  that 
was  a  true  friend's  service." 

Dicky  chuckled  softly:  "It's  much  nicer, 
if  you  can  take  it  that  way, ' '  he  admitted. 

"If  I  am  ever  anything  but  nice  to  you," 
Christian  began,  gravely,  and  then  stopped 
as  if  he  had  bitten  his  tongue.  "Oh,  there  is 
patronage  again ! "  he  cried  with  vexation — 
and  then  let  himself  be  persuaded  to  join  in 
the  frank  laughter  that  the  other  set  up. 

"Oh,  we  shall  hit  it  off  all  right,"  Dicky 
assured  him  as  a  final  word  on  the  subject. 
44 It's  merely  a  question  of  time.     You've  got 
558 


GLORIA  MUNDI 

to  get  accustomed  to  your  new  job,  and  I  to 
mine:  that's  all  there  is  of  it.  We  shall 
learn  the  whole  bag  of  tricks  in  a  week  or 
so,  and  be  happy  ever  afterward. ' ' 

The  joking  refrain  struck  some  welcome 
chord  in  Christian's  thoughts.  He  looked 
up,  and  noted  that  they  were  very  near  the 
door  leading  out  from  the  fruit-garden  to  the 
heath  beyond  the  wall.  Halting,  he  smiled 
into  his  companion's  face. 

"No  one  will  follow  me  now, "  he  said  with 
sparkling  eyes.  "I  will  let  you  turn  back 
here,  if  you  don't  mind." 


559 


CHAPTER     XXVII 

Christian  realized  blankly,  all  at  once,  as 
he  stood  and  gazed  out  over  the  moor,  that 
he  did  not  know  his  way. 

The  spring  had  laid  upon  this  great  roll 
ing  common  a  beauty  of  its  own.  Every 
where,  on  thorns  and  furze  and  briars,  the 
touch  of  the  new  life  had  hung  emeralds  to 
bedeck  and  hide  the  dun  waste  of  winter. 
The  ashen-gray  carpets  of  old  mosses  were 
veined  with  the  vivid  green  of  young 
growths;  out  from  the  dry  brown  litter  of 
lifeless  ferns  and  bracken  were  rising  the 
malachite  croziers  of  fresh  fronds.  The 
brilliant  yellow  of  broom  and  gorse  blooms 
caught  the  eye  in  all  directions,  blazing 
above  the  vernal  outburst  of  another  year's 
vegetation,  and  the  hum  of  the  bees  in  the 
sunlight,  and  the  delicately  mingled  odors 
in  the  May  air  were  a  delight  to  the  senses. 
But  under  this  exuberance  of  re-awakened 
nature,  welcome  though  it  might  be,  some 
how  the  landmarks  of  last  autumn  seemed 
to  have  disappeared. 

The  path  which  had  led  along  the  wall 
56i 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

for  example,  was  now  nowhere  discernible. 
Or  had  there  really  been  a  path  at  any  time? 

It  was  clear  enough,  at  all  events,  that  his 
course  for  some  distance  lay  beside  this 
massive  line  of  ancient  masonry,  even  if  no 
track  was  marked  for  him.  At  some  farther 
point  it  would  be  necessary  to  turn  off  at  a 
right  angle  toward  the  Mere  Copse — and 
here  he  could  recall  distinctly  that  there  had 
been  a  path.  But  then  he  came  upon 
several  paths,  or  vaguely  defined  grassy 
depressions  which  might  be  paths,  and  the 
divergent  ways  of  these  were  a  trouble  to 
him.  At  last,  he  decided  to  strike  out  more 
boldly  into  the  heath,  independently  of 
paths,  and  try  to  get  a  general  view  of  the 
landscape.  He  made  his  way  through 
creepers  and  prickly  little  bushes  toward  an 
elevation  in  the  distance,  realizing  more  and 
more  in  his  encumbered  progress  that  his 
quest  was  like  that  of  one  who  should  search 
the  limitless  sea  for  a  small  boat.  There 
seemed  no  boundaries  whatever  to  this  vast 
tract  of  waste  land. 

As  he  began  at  length  the  ascent  of  the 
mound  toward  which  his  course  had  been 
directed,  he  scanned  the  moor  near  and  far, 
but  no  human  figure  was  visible.  No  signs 
could  he  discover  of  any  beaten  track  across 
it;  of  the  several  patches  of  woodland 
562 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

beyond,  in  the  distance  to  the  left,  he  could 
not  even  be  sure  which  was  the  Mere  Copse. 
Below,  on  the  edge  of  the  sky-line  at  the 
right,  he  could  see  the  tops  of  the  towers  and 
chimneys  of  Caermere.  Wheeling  round 
from  this  point,  then,  he  endeavored  to 
identify  that  portion  of  the  hill,  on  the 
opposite  side  of  the  river-chasm,  which 
Kathleen  had  pointed  out  to  him  from  the 
terrace.  But,  viewed  from  here,  there  were 
so  many  hills!  The  hopelessness  of  his 
errand  became  more  apparent  with  each 
glance  round.  Despondently,  he  sauntered 
up  the  few  remaining  yards  to  the  top. 

He  stood  upon  the  ridge  of  a  grass-grown 
wall  of  stones  and  earth,  which  in  a  some 
what  irregular  circle  enclosed  perhaps  a 
quarter-acre  of  land.  This  wall  on  its  best 
preserved  side,  where  he  found  himself,  was 
some  dozen  feet  in  height.  Across  the  ring 
it  seemed  lower,  and  at  three  or  four  points 
was  broken  down  altogether.  He  realized 
that  he  was  surveying  a  very  ancient  struc 
ture — no  doubt,  prehistoric.  Would  it  have 
been  a  fortress  or  a  temple,  or  the  primitive 
mausoleum  of  some  chief  tain- ruler  in  these 
wilds?  One  of  the  openings  seemed  to  sug 
gest  by  its  symmetry  an  entrance  to  the 
enclosure.  It  was  all  very  curious,  and  he 
promised  himself  that  very  soon  he  would 
563 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

examine  it  in  detail.  Some  vague  promptings 
of  a  nascent  archaeological  spirit  impelled 
him  now,  upon  second  thoughts,  to  walk  round 
on  the  crest  of  the  wall  to  the  other  side. 

Suddenly  he  stopped,  stared  sharply  down 
ward  with  arrested  breath,  and  then,  while 
his  face  wreathed  itself  with  amused  smiles, 
tip-toed  along  a  few  paces  farther.  Halting 
here,  his  eyes  dancing  with  suppressed 
gaiety,  he  regarded  at  his  leisure  the  object 
of  his  expedition. 

Upon  the  sunny  outer  side  of  the  sloping 
embankment,  only  a  few  feet  below,  was 
seated  Frances  Bailey.  Her  face  was  turned 
from  him,  and  she  was  apparently  engrossed 
in  the  study  of  a  linen-backed  sectional  map 
spread  on  her  knees.  A  small  red  book  lay 
in  the  grass  at  her  side,  and  he  was  so  close 
that  he  could  decipher  the  legend  "  Shrop 
shire  and  Cheshire"  on  its  cover. 

After  a  minute's  rapturous  reflection  he 
turned  and  noiselessly  retraced  his  steps,  till 
he  could  descend  from  the  wall  without  being 
seen.  There  was  a  kind  of  miniature  dry 
moat  surrounding  it  at  this  point,  and  this 
he  lightly  vaulted.  Then,  straightening 
himself,  he  strolled  forward  with  as  fine  an 
assumption  of  unsuspecting  innocence  as  he 
could  contrive.  It  occurred  to  him  to 
whistle  some  negligent  tune  very  softly  as 
564 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

he  came,  but,  oddly  enough,  his  lips  seemed 
recalcitrant — they  made  no  sound. 

At  the  obtrusion  of  his  shadow  upon  the 
map  she  was  examining  she  looked  swiftly 
up.  For  a  moment,  with  the  afternoon  sun 
in  her  eyes,  she  seemed  not  to  recognize  him. 
There  followed  another  pause,  infinitesimal 
in  duration,  yet  crowded  with  significance, 
in  which  she  appeared  clearly  at  a  loss  what 
to  say  or  do,  now  that  she  realized  the  fact 
of  his  presence.  Then  she  smiled  at  him 
with  a  kind  of  superficial  brightness  and 
tossed  the  map  aside. 

"I  am  fortunate  indeed  to  find  you,"  he 
said,  as  he  came  up,  and  they  shook  hands 
formally.  A  few  moments  before,  when  he 
had  looked  down  upon  her  from  the  mound, 
he  had  been  buoyantly  conscious  of  his  con 
trol  of  the  situation ;  but  now  that  he  stood 
before  her  it  was  she  who  looked  down  upon 
him  from  her  vantage-ground  on  the  side  of 
the  bank,  and  somehow  this  seemed  to  make 
a  great  deal  of  difference.  The  sound  of  his 
voice  in  his  own  ears  was  unexpectedly 
solemn  and  constrained.  He  felt  his  deport 
ment  to  be  unpleasantly  awkward. 

She  ignored  the  implication  that  he  had 

been  looking  for  her.     "I  suppose  this  must 

be  the  place  that  is  marked  'tumulus'  on  the 

map  here,"  she  observed,  with  what  seemed 

565 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

to  be  a  deliberately  casual  tone.  "But  I 
should  think  it  is  more  like  a  rath,  such  as 
one  reads  about  in  Ireland — a  fortified  place 
to  defend  one's  herds  and  people  in.  As  I 
understand  it,  a  tumulus  was  for  purposes  of 
burial,  and  this  seems  to  be  a  fort  rather 
than  a  tomb.  What  is  your  idea  about  it?" 
She  rose  to  her  feet  as  she  put  the  ques 
tion,  and  turned  to  regard  the  earthworks 
above  and  about  her  with  a  concentrated 
interest. 

He  tried  to  laugh.  "I'm  afraid  I'm  more 
ignorant  about  them  than  anybody  else,"  he 
confessed.  "I  have  never  been  here  before. 
I  suppose  all  one  can  really  say  is  that  the 
people  who  did  these  things  knew  what  they 
were  for,  but  that  since  they  had  no  alphabet 
they  could  not  leave  a  record  to  explain 
them  to  us,  and  so  we  are  free  to  make  each 
his  own  theory  to  suit  himself. ' ' 

"That  is  a  very  indolent  view  to  take," 
she  told  him  over  her  shoulder.  "Scientists 
and  archaeologists  are  not  contented  with 
that  sort  of  reply.  They  examine  and  com 
pare  and  draw  deductions,  and  get  at  the 
meaning  of  these  ancient  remains.  They 
do  not  sit  down  and  fold  their  hands  and 
say,  'Unfortimately  those  people  had  no 
alphabet. '  Why  don't  you  dig  this  thing  up 
and  find  out  about  it?" 
566 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

He  smiled  to  himself  doubtfully.  "  I  ha ve 
only  been  in  possession  of  it  for  about  three 
hours,"  he  reminded  her.  Then  an  inspira 
tion  came  to  him.  "Would  you  like  to  dig  it 
up?"  he  asked,  with  an  effect  of  eagerness 
shining  through  the  banter  of  his  tone.  "I 
mean,  to  superintend  the  excavations.  You 
shall  have  forty  men  out  here  with  picks  and 
shovels  to-morrow  if  you  say  the  word." 

Instead  of  answering,  she  stooped  to  get 
her  book  and  map,  and  then  moved  with  a 
preoccupied  air  to  the  top  of  the  bank. 
After  an  instant's  hesitation  he  scrambled  up 
to  join  her. 

"I  suppose  that  would  have  been  the 
entrance  there,"  she  observed,  pointing 
across  the  circle.  "And  in  the  center,  you 
see,  where  the  grass  is  so  thin,  there  are 
evidently  big  stones  there.  That  does  sug 
gest  interment  after  all,  doesn't  it?  Yet  the 
Silurians  are  said  to  have  buried  only  in 
dolmens.  It  is  very  curious." 

"I  do  not  find  that  I  care  much  about 
Silurians  this  afternoon,"  he  ventured  to 
say.  There  was  a  gentle  hint  of  reproach  in 
his  voice. 

"Why,  you're  one  yourself!  That  is  the 
principal  point  about  the  Torrs;  that  is  what 
makes  them  interesting." 

"But  what  good  does  it  do  me  to  be  a 
567 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

Silurian  and  interesting, ' '  he  protested  with 
a  whimsical  gesture,  ''if  I— if  I  do  not  get 
what  I  want  most  of  all  in  the  world?" 

"It  seems  to  me  that  you  have  got  more 
things  already  than  most  people  on  this 
planet."  She  went  on  reflectively:  "I  had 
no  idea  at  all  what  it  meant  till  I  saw  these 
hills  and  the  valleys  below  them,  and  the 
forests  and  the  villages  and  the  -castle,  and 
the  people  coming  out  from  heaven  knows 
what  holes  in  the  rocks — all  with  your  collar 
round  their  necks.  I  should  think  it  would 
either  send  you  mad  with  the  sense  of  power 
or  frighten  you  to  death. ' ' 

"I  am  really  very  humble  about  it,  I 
think,"  he  assured  her  simply.  "And  there 
is  not  so  much  power  as  you  seem  to  imagine. 
It  is  all  a  great  organized  machine,  like  some 
big  business.  The  differences  are  that  it 
works  very  clumsily  and  badly  as  it  is  at 
present  managed,  and  that  it  hardly  pays  any 
dividend  at  all.  The  average  large  whole 
sale  grocer's  or  wine  merchant's  estate  would 
pay  a  bigger  succession  duty  than  my  grand 
father's.  He  died  actually  a  poor  man." 

The  intelligence  did  not  visibly  impress 
her.  "But  it  was  not  because  he  helped 
others,"  she  remarked.  "Those  about  him 
grew  poorer  also.  It  is  a  hateful  system!" 

"There  is  something  you  do  not  know," 
563 


GLORIA  MUNDI 

he  began  with  gravity.  "I  said  that  my 
grandfather  died  a  poor  man.  But  since  his 
death  a  tremendous  thing  has  happened.  A 
great  gift  has  been  made  to  me.  The  enor 
mous  debts  which  encumbered  his  estates 
have  been  wiped  out  of  existence.  It  is 
Lord  Julius  and  Emanuel  who  have  done 
this — done  it  for  me!  I  do  not  know  the 
figures  yet — to-morrow  Mr.  Soman  is  to 
explain  them  to  me — but  the  fact  is  I  am  a 
very  rich  man  indeed.  I  do  not  owe  any 
body  a  penny.  Whatever  seems  to  be  mine, 
is  mine.  There  are  between  seventy-five 
and  eighty  thousand  acres.  By  comparison 
with  other  estates,  it  seems  to  me  that  there 
will  be  a  yearly  income  of  more  than  fifty 
thousand  pounds ! ' ' 

She  drew  a  long  breath  and  looked  him  in 
the  face.  "I  am  very  sorry  for  you,"  she 
said  soberly. 

4  *  Ah,  no ;  I  resist  you  there, ' '  he  exclaimed. 
"I  quote  your  own  words  to  you:  'It  is  an 
indolent  view  to  take.'  There  is  a  prodi 
gious  responsibility !  Yes !  But  all  the  more 
reason  why  I  should  be  brave.  Would  you 
have  me  lose  my  nerve,  and  say  the  task  is 
too  great  for  me?  I  thought  you  did  not 
like  people  who  solved  difficulties  by  turning 
tail  and  running  away.  Well,  to  confess 
oneself  afraid — that  is  the  same  thing. ' ' 

569 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

She  smiled  thoughtfully,  perhaps  at  the 
quaint  recurrence  to  foreign  gestures  and  an 
uncertain,  hurried  use  of  book-English 
which  her  company  seemed  always  to 
provoke  in  him.  "I  meant  only  that  it  was 
a  terrible  burden  you  had  had  fastened 
upon  your  shoulders,"  she  made  answer 
softly.  "I  did  not  suggest  that  you  were 
afraid  of  it.  And  yet  I  should  think  you 
would  be!" 

"I  think, "he  responded,  with  a  kind  of 
diffident  conviction,  "I  think  that  if  a  man  is 
honest  and  ambitious  for  good  things,  and 
has  some  brains,  he  can  grow  to  be  equal  to 
any  task  that  will  be  laid  upon  him.  And  if 
he  labors  at  it  with  sincerity  and  does  abso 
lutely  the  best  that  there  is  in  him  to  do, 
then  I  do  not  think  that  his  work  will  be 
wasted.  A  man  is  only  a  man  after  all.  He 
did  not  make  this  world,  and  he  cannot  do 
with  it  what  he  likes.  It  is  a  bigger  thing, 
when  you  come  to  think  of  it,  than  he  is. 
At  the  end  there  is  only  a  little  hole  in  it  for 
him  to  be  buried  in  and  forgotten,  as  these 
people  who  raised  this  wall  that  we  stand  on 
are  forgotten.  They  thought  in  their  day  that 
the  whole  world  depended  upon  them ;  when 
there  was  thunder  and  lightning,  they  said 
it  was  on  their  account,  because  their  gods 
in  the  sky  were  angry  with  them.  But  to  us 
570 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

it  is  evident  that  they  were  not  so  important 
as  they  supposed  they  were.     We  look  at  the 
work  of  their  hands  here,  and  we  regard  it 
with  curiosity,  as  we  might  an  ant's  nest. 
We  do  not  know  whether  they  made  it  as  a 
tomb  for  their  chief  or  as  a  shelter  for  their 
cows.     And    if    they    had    left    records    to 
explain  that,   and  it  does  not  matter  how 
much  else,  it  would  be  the  same.     We  learn 
only  one  thing  from  all  the  numberless  mil 
lions  who  have  gone  before  us — that  man  is 
less  important  than  he  thinks  he  is.     I  have 
a  high  position  thrust  upon  me.     Eh  bien! 
I  am  not  going  to  command  the  sun  to  stand 
still.     I  am  not  going  to  believe  that  I  ought 
to  revolutionize  human  society  before  I  die. 
There  will  be  many  men  after  me.     If  one 
or  two  of  them  says  of  me  that  I  worked 
hard  to  do  well,  and  that  I    left  things  a 
trifle  better  than  I  found  them,  then  what 
more  can  I  desire?" 

She  nodded  in  musing  abstraction,  but 
answered  nothing.  Her  gaze  was  fastened 
resolutely  upon  the  opposite  bank. 

"I  am  truly  so  fortunate  not  to  have 
missed  you!"  he  repeated  after  a  small 
interval  of  silence. 

"Why  should  you   say   that?"   she  asked 
almost    with    petulance.      "You   make    too 
much  of  me !     I  do  not  belong  in  this  gallery 
57i 


GLORIA  MtTNDl 

at  all.  I  am  very  angry  with  myself  for 
being  here.  I  ought  not  to  have  allowed 
Mrs.  Emanuel  to  persuade  me  against  my 
own  judgment.  It  did  not  enter  into  my 
head  that  I  should  be  seen  by  anybody.  I 
was  on  my  vacation — I  take  it  early,  because 
some  of  the  girls  like  to  get  away  at  Whit 
suntide — and  at  Bath  I  saw  in  a  paper  some 
reference  to  the  state  with  which  your  grand 
father  would  be  buried,  and  the  whim  seized 
me  to  see  the  funeral.  I  came  on  my 
bicycle  most  of  the  way,  till  the  hills  got  too 
bad.  I  thought  no  one  would  be  the  wiser 
for  my  coming  and  going.  And  one  thing 
—you  must  not  ask  me  to  come  into  the 
castle  again.  I  am  going  to  the  inn  to  get 
my  machine,  and  go  down  to  Craven  Arms 
or  Clun  for  the  night.  I  have  looked  both 
roads  out  on  my  map.  Is  Clun  interesting, 
do  you  know?" 

"I  have  not  the  remotest  idea.  In  fact, 
there  is  only  one  idea  of  any  sort  in  my  mind 
just  now.  It  is  that  you  are  not  to  be 
allowed  to  go  away.  Have  you  seen  the 
dungeons  in  which  we  fasten  up  people 
whose  presence  is  particularly  desired,  and 
who  will  not  listen  to  reason?" 

The  jesting  tone  of  his  words  was  belied 
by  the  glance  in  his  eyes.     She  frowned  a 
little.     "No,  there  is  no  reason  in  it  at  all. 
572 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

What  have  I  to  do  with  these  people?  They 
are  not  my  kind.  It  is  the  merest  accident 
that  you  and  I  happen  to  be  acquainted.  If 
you  did  not  know  me  now,  nothing-  is  more 
certain  than  that  we  should  never  meet  in 
the  world.  And  our  seeming  to  each  other 
like  friends  on  those  other  occasions — that 
had  nothing-  to  do  with  the  present.  The 
circumstances  are  entirely  different.  There 
is  nothing  in  common  between  us  now,  or 
hardly  anything  at  all.  You  ought  to  under 
stand  that.  And  I  look  to  you  to  realize 
how  matters  are  altered,  and  not  to  insist 
upon  placing  me  in  a  very  undignified  and 
unpleasant  position."  She  had  spoken  with 
increasing  rapidity  of  utterance,  and  with 
rising  agitation.  "Not  that  your  insisting 
would  make  any  difference ! "  she  added  now, 
almost  defiantly. 

He  looked  at  her  in  silence.  The  face 
half  turned  from  him,  with  its  broad  brow, 
its  shapely  and  competent  profile,  the  com 
manding  light  in  its  gray  eyes,  the  firm  lips 
drawn  into  tightened  curves  of  proud  resist 
ance  to  any  weakness  of  quivering — it  was 
the  face  that  had  made  so  profound  an 
impression  upon  him  at  the  outset  of  that 
wonderful  journey  from  Rouen.  The 
memory  became  on  the  instant  inexpressibly 
touching  to  him.  She  was  almost  as  she  had 

573 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

been  then — it  might  well  be  the  same  sober 
gray  frock,  the  same  hat,  save  that  the 
ribbon  now  was  black  instead  of  fawn.  She 
would  have  no  varied  wardrobe,  this  girl 
who  earned  her  own  bread,  and  gave  her 
mind  to  the  large  realities  of  life.  But  this 
very  simplicity  of  setting,  how  notably  it 
emphasized  the  precious  quality  of  what  it 
framed!  He  recalled  that  in  his  first  rapt 
study  of  this  face  it  had  seemed  to  him  like  the 
face  of  the  young  Piedmontese  bishop  who 
had  once  come  to  his  school — pure,  wise, 
sweet,  tender,  strong.  And  now,  beholding 
it  afresh,  it  was  beyond  all  these  things  the 
face  which  woke  music  in  his  heart — the  face 
of  the  woman  he  loved. 

With  gentle  slowness  he  answered  her: 
"The  position  I  seek  to  place  you  in  does  not 
seem  to  me  undignified.  I  should  like  to 
hope  that  you  would  not  find  it  unpleasant. 
You  know  what  I  mean — I  offered  it  to  you 
in  advance,  before  it  was  yet  mine  to  give. 
I  beg  you  again  to  accept  it,  now  when  it  is 
mine  to  give.  If  you  will  turn,  you  can  see 
Caermere  from  where  you  stand.  It  has  had 
in  all  its  days  no  mistress  like  you.  Will 
you  take  it  from  my  hands?" 

She  confronted  him  with  a  clear,  steady 
gaze    of    disapproval.      "All    this    is    very 
stupid!"    she    said,    peremptorily.       "Last 
574 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

week— it  had  its  pretty  and  graceful  side 
then  perhaps,  but  it  is  not  nice  at  all  now. 
It  does  not  flatter  me ;  it  does  not  please  me 
in  any  way  to-day.  I  told  you  then,  I  had 
my  own  independence,  my  own  personal 
pride  and  dignity,  which  are  dearer  to  me 
than  anything  else.  If  I  had  them  then,  I 
have  them  very  much  more  now.  What 
kind  of  idea  of  me  is  this  that  you  have- 
that  I  am  to  change  my  mind  because  now 
you  can  talk  of  fifty  thousand  a  year?  I  like 
you  less  than  I  did  when  you  had  nothing  at 
all !  For  then  we  seemed  to  understand  each 
other  better.  You  would  not  have  rattled 
your  money-box  at  me  then !  You  had  finer 
sensibilities — I  liked  you  more!" 

He  returned  her  gaze  with  a  perplexed 
smile.  "But  I  am  asking  you  to  be  my 
wife,"  he  pointed  out. 

She  sniffed  with  a  suggestion  of  contempt 
at  the  word.  "Wife ! ' '  she  told  him  stormily. 
"You  do  not  seem  to  know  what  the  word 
'wife'  means!  You  are  not  thinking  of  a 
'wife'  at  all.  It  is  a  woman  to  play  Duch 
ess  to  your  Duke  that  you  have  in  mind, 
and  you  feel  merely  that  she  ought  to  be 
presentable  and  intelligent,  and  personally 
not  distasteful  to  you;  we'll  even  say  that 
you  prefer  a  woman  towards  whom  you  have 
felt  a  sort  of  comrade's  impulse.  But  that 

575 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

has  nothing  to  do  with  a  'wife.'  And  even 
on  your  own  ground  how  foolish  you  are !  In 
heaven's  name,  why  hit  on  me  of  all  women? 
There  are  ten  thousand  who  would  do  it  all 
vastly  better,  and  who,  moreover,  would 
leap  at  the  chance.  You  have  only  to  look 
about  you.  England  is  full  of  beauties  in 
training  for  just  such  a  place.  They  know 
the  ways  of  your  set — the  small  talk,  the 
little  jokes,  the  amusements  and  social  duties 
and  distinctions,  and  all  that.  Go  and  find 
what  you  want  among  them.  What  have  I 
to  do  with  such  people?  They're  not  in  my 
class  at  all. " 

Christian  sighed,  and  then  sought  her 
glance  again  with  a  timid,  whimsical  smile. 
"Ah,  how  you  badger  me  always!"  he  said. 
"But  I  have  still  something  more  to  say." 

* '  Let  me  beg  that  it  be  left  unsaid ! ' '  She 
folded  up  the  map,  and  began  moving  along 
the  ridge  as  she  spoke.  "It  is  all  as  dis 
tressful  to  me  as  can  be.  You  cannot  under 
stand — or  will  not  understand — and  it  puts 
me  in  an  utterly  hateful  position.  I  do  not 
like  to  be  saying  unpleasant  things  to  you. 
I  had  only  the  nicest  feelings  towards  you 
when  we  last  parted ;  and  this  noon,  when  I 
saw  you  in  the  church,  you  made  a  picture 
in  my  mind  that  I  had  quite— quite  a  tender 
ness  for.  But  now  you  force  me  into  dis- 
576 


GLORIA  MUNDI 

agreeable  feelings  and  words,  which  I  don't 
like  any  more  than  you  do.  I  seem  to  be 
never  myself  when  I  am  with  you.  I  have 
actually  never  seen  you  but  three  times,  and 
you  disturb  me  more — you  make  me  hate 
myself  more — than  everything  else  in  the 
world. ' ' 

The  exigencies  of  the  path  along  the  sum 
mit  of  the  mound  forced  Christian  to  walk 
behind  her.  In  the  voice  which  carried 
these  words  backward  to  him  the  quavering 
stress  of  profound  emotion  was  more  to  him 
than  the  words  themselves.  He  put  out  his 
hand  and  laid  it  lightly  upon  her  arm. 

"It  is  because  you  feel  in  your  heart  of 
hearts  that  I  love  you,"  he  said  in  a  low, 
tremulous  voice.  "Can  you  not  see?  It  is 
that  that  has  made  all  our  meetings  dis 
turbed,  full  of  misunderstandings  as  well  as 
pleasure.  You  wrong  me,  dear — or  no,  you 
could  not  do  that,  but  it  is  that  you  do  not 
comprehend.  I  have  loved  you  from  that 
first  day.  Oh,  I  have  loved  you  always, 
since  I  can  remember — long  years  before  I 
.  saw  you.  There  is  not  any  memory  in  my 
life,  it  seems,  but  of  you — for  all  the  sweet 
things  were  a  foretaste  of  you,  and  all  the 
bitter  are  forgotten  because  of  you.  And 
shall  there  not  be  an  end  now  to  our  hurting 
each  other?  For  where  you  go  I  follow  you, 

577 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

and  I  must  always  be  longing  for  you — and 
I  do  not  believe  that  in  your  heart  you  hold 
yourself  away  from  me,  but  only  in  your 
mind." 

She  had  drawn  her  sleeve  from  his  touch, 
and  irresolutely  quickened  her  steps.  She 
perforce  paused  now  at  a  broken  gap  in  the 
bank,  and  with  books  and  gathered  skirts  in 
one  hand,  lifted  the  other  in  instinctively 
balancing  preparation  for  a  descent.  He 
took  this  hand,  and  she  made  no  demur  to 
his  leading  her  down  the  steep  slope  to  the 
level  outer  ground.  He  retained  the  hand 
reverently,  gently  in  his  own  as  they  walked 
in  silence  across  the  heath.  It  seemed  ever 
as  if  she  would  take  it  from  him,  and  that  he 
consciously  exerted  a  magic  through  his 
touch  which  just  sufficed  to  hold  it. 

With  a  bowed  head,  and  cheek  at  once 
flushed  and  white,  she  began  to  speak. 
"You  are  very  young,"  she  said,  lingering 
over  the  words  with  almost  dejection  in  her 
tone.  "You  know  so  little  of  what  life  is 
like !  You  have  such  a  place  in  the  affairs 
of  men  to  fill,  and  you  come  to  it  with  such 
innocent  boyish  good  faith — and  men  are  so 
little  like  what  you  think  they  are.  And  as 
you  learn  the  lesson — the  hardening,  disil 
lusionizing  lesson  of  the  world — and  the  soft, 
youthful  places  in  your  nature  toughen,  and 
578 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

you  are  a  man  holding  your  own  with  other 
men,  and  lording-  it  over  them  where  you 
can,  then  you  will  hate  the  things  which 
hamper  you,  and  you  will  curse  encum 
brances  that  you  took  on  you  in  your  igno 
rance.  And  you  are  all  wrong  about  me! 
It  is  because  you  do  not  know  other  women 
that  you  think  well  of  me.  I  am  a  very 
ordinary  girl,  indeed.  There  are  thousands 
like  me,  and  better  than  me,  with  more 
courage  and  finer  characters,  and  you  do  not 
know  them,  that  is  all.  And  there  are  the 
young  women  of  your  own  little  world,  who 
are  born  and  reared  to  be  the  wives  of  men 
in  your  place,  and  you  will  see  them — 

' 4 1  have  seen  them, ' '  he  interposed  softly. 

"But  it  is  not  fair!"  she  hurried  on  breath 
lessly.  "It  is  the  duty  of  a  friend  to  hold  a 
man  back  when  he  is  bent  on  a  folly.  And 
we  pledged  ourselves  to  be  true  friends,  and 
I  implore  you — or  no,  I  insist!  I  will  not 
have  it.  It  is  too  cruelly  unfair  to  you — and 
— I  am  going  now — no,  not  that  way ;  in  the 
other  direction.  We  will  say  good-bye. ' ' 

He  would  not  relinquish  the  hand  she 
strove  to  drag  away.  All  the  calmness  of 
confident  mastery  was  in  his  hold  upon  this 
hand,  and  in  the  gravely  sweet  cadence  of 
his  voice.  "I  love  you,"  he  said.  "I  shall 
love  no  one  in  my  life,  or  in  another  life,  but 
579 


GLORIA   MUNDI 

you.  I  will  not  live  without  you.  I  will  not 
willingly  spend  a  day  in  all  my  years  away 
from  you.  You  are  truly  my  other  half — the 
companion,  the  friend,  the  love,  the  wife, 
without  whom  nothing  exists  for  me.  I  am 
not  young  as  you  say  I  am,  and  I  shall 
never  be  old — for  in  this  love  there  is  no 
youth  or  age  for  either  of  us.  Try  to  look 
backward  now!  Can  you  see  a  time  when 
we  did  not  love  each  other?  And  forward ! 
Is  it  thinkable  that  we  can  be  parted?" 

Slowly  she  lifted  her  head. 

"Look  at  me!"  she  bade  him  in  a  voice  he 
seemed  never  to  have  heard  before. 


THE    END 


580 


PRINTED  BY  R.  R.  DONNELLEY 
AND  SONS  COMPANY  AT  THE 
LAKESIDE  PRESS,  CHICAGO,  ILL. 


By  MARIA  LOUISE  POOL 

A   GOLDEN  SORROW 

This  novel  was  running  serially  in  Godey's  Maga 
zine  at  the  time  of  Miss  Pool's  death.  It  will  not, 
however,  be  completed  in  that  periodical,  but  will  be 
issued  at  once  in  book  form.  It  is  a  story  of  love  and 
adventure  in  St.  Augustine,  much  more  exciting  than 
Miss  Pool's  stories  usually  are,  but  with  all  her 
delightful  sense  of  humor. 

16mo.    Cloth.    $1.25. 

IN  BUNCOMBE  COUNTY 

"In  Buncombe  County"  is  bubbling  over  with  merriment- 
one  could  not  be  blue  with  such  a  companion  for  an  hour.— 
Boston  Times. 

It  is  brimming  over  with  humor,  and  the  reader  who  can  fol 
low  the  fortunes  of  the  redbird  alone,  who  flutters  through  the  first 
few  chapters,  and  not  be  moved  to  long  laughter,  must  be  sadly 
insensitive.  But  laugh  as  he  may,  he  will  always  revert  to  the 
graver  vein  which  unobtrusively  runs  from  the  first  to  the  last 
page  in  the  book.  He  will  lay  down  the  narrative  of  almost 
grotesque  adventure  with  a  keen  remembrance  of  its  tenderness 
and  pathos.— New  York  Tribune. 

16mo.    Boards.    Second  impression.    $1.25. 


IN  A   DIKE  SHANTY 

Of  the  same  general  character  as  this  author's  "  Tenting  on 
Stony  Beach,"  but  written  with  more  vigor  and  compactness. 
Each  of  the  persons  in  this  outing-sketch  is  strongly  individual 
ized,  and  an  effective  little  love  story  is  interwoven.  The  author 
has  a  certain  hardness  of  tone  which  gives  strength  to  her  work. 
—Atlantic  Monthly. 

With  a  cover  designed  by  Frank  Hazenplug. 
16mo.  Cloth.  $1.25. 

HERBERT  S.  STONE  &  Co.,  CHICAGO  &  NEW  YORK. 


By  ROBERT  HICHENS 

THE  LONDONERS:    AN  ABSURDITY 

"  The  Green  Carnation ''  was  among  the  most  amus 
ing  society  sketches  that  recent  years  have  given  us. 
After  it  Mr.  Hichens,  perhaps  wisely,  devoted  himself 
to  much  more  serious  work.  In  "  The  Londoners  " 
he  returns  to  his  original  manner  without  making  his 
burlesque  so  personal.  It  is  the  story  of  a  smart 
woman,  wearied  by  her  position  and  its  duties,  who 
seeks  to  get  out  of  society.  The  idea  is  an  original 
one,  and  when  contrasted  with  the  efforts  of  a  second 
heroine  to  get  into  society,  the  result  is  wholly  delight 
ful.  The  story  has  already  attained  a  considerable 
popularity. 

With  a  cover  designed  by  Claude  F.  Bragdon. 
12mo.  Cloth.  Second  impression.  $1.50. 


FLAMES:    A  LONDON  FANTASY 

The  book  is  sure  to  be  widely  read.— Buffalo  Commercial. 

It  carries  on  the  attention  9!  the  reader  from  the  first  chapter 
to  the  last.  Full  of  exciting  incidents,  very  modern,  excessively 
up  to  date. — London  Daily  Telegraph. 

In  his  last  book  Mr.  Ilichens  has  entirely  proved  himself.  His 
talent  does  not  so  much  lie  in  the  conventional  novel,  but  more 
in  his  strange  and  fantastic  medium.  "  Flames  "  suits  him,  has 
him  at  his  best.— Pall  Mall  Gazette. 

"Flames  "  is  a  powerful  story,  not  only  for  the  novelty  of  its 
plot,  but  for  the  skill  with  which  it  is  worked  out,  the  brilliancy 
of  its  descriptions  of  the  London  streets,  of  the  seamy  side  of  the 
city's  life  which  night  turns  to  the  beholder;  but  the  descriptions 
are  neither  erotic  nor  morbid.  *  *  *  We  may  repudiate  the 
central  idea  of  soul-transference,  but  the  theory  is  made  the 
vehicle  of  this  striking  tale  in  a  manner  that  is  entirely  sane  and 
wholesome.  It  leaves  no  bad  taste  in  the  mouth.  *  *  * 
"Flames"— it  is  the  author's  fancy  that  the  soul  is  like  a  little 
flame,  and  hence  the  title— must  be  read  with  care.  There  is 
much  epigrammatic  writing  in  it  that  will  delight  the  literary 
palate.  It  Is  far  and  away  ahead  of  anything  that  Mr.  Hichens 
has  ever  written  before.— Brooklyn  Eagle. 

With  a  cover  designed  by  F.  R.  Kimbrough.  12mo. 
Cloth.  Second  impression.  $1.50. 

HERBERT  S.  STONE  &  Co.,  CHICAGO  &  NEW  YORK. 


By  CLINTON  ROSS 

THE  SCARLET  COAT 
A  tale  of  the  siege  of  Yorktown. 

It  is  seldom  that  so  much  valuable  history  is  to  be  found  in  a 
novel  as  "The  Scarlet  Coat"  contains.  It  is  one  of  the  most 
interesting  storie^  of  the  Revolution  that  has  appeared  in  many 
a  year — a,  charming  story  from  first  to  last. —  The  Army  and  Navy 
Register. 

"The  Scarlet  Coat"  is  an  extremely  interesting  historical  novel. 

—Springfield  Republican. 

16mo.    Cloth.    $1.25. 


THE  PUPPET 
A  story  of  adventure. 

All  the  work  that  we  have  seen  thus  far  glows  with  happy 
enthusiasm.  His  brush  is  moist  with  the  colors  that  tell. — 
Boston  Herald. 

Unless  we  are  very  much  mistaken,  he  is  a  literary  figure  of 
great  importance.  There  is  an  ease,  combined  with  delicacy  of 
treatment,  which  renders  his  stories  peculiarly  attractive.  Add 
to  this  freshness  of  motive,  skill,  characterization,  and  excellent 
powers  of  description,  and  it  will  be  seen  that  this  young 
romancer  has  distinct  claims  on  our  attention. — Boston  Transcript. 

16mo.  Cloth.  Uniform  with  "  The  Scarlet  Coat." 
$1.25. 

THE  MEDDLING  HUSSY 

The  thirteen  tales  making  up  this  collection  have 
from  time  to  time  appeared  in  the  great  magazines, 
and  have  met  witu  great  success.  Indeed,  it  was 
through  these  "Battle  Tales"  that  Mr.  Ross  first 
came  to  be  known  by  the  larger  public,  and  not  until 
the  appearance  of  "  The  Scarlet  Coat "  was  his  genius 
for  the  novel  recognized. 

16mo.  Cloth.  Uniform  with  "  The  Scarlet  Coat." 
Illustrated.  $1.50. 

HERBERT  S.  STONE  &  Co.,  CHICAGO  &  NEW  YORK. 


By  GEORGE  ADE 

PINK  MARSH 

A  story  of  the  Streets  and  Town. 

There  is,  underlying  these  character  sketches,  a  refinement  of 
feeling  that  wins  and  retains  one's  admiration. — St.  Louis  Globe- 
Democrat. 

Here  is  a  perfect  triumph  of  characterization  .  .  .  Pink 
must  become  a  household  word.— Kansas  City  Star. 

It  is  some  time  since  we  have  met  with  a  more  amusing  char 
acter  than  is  "  Pink  Marsh,"  or  to  give  him  his  full  title,  William 
Pinckney  Marsh  of  Chicago.  .  .  .  "Pink"  is  not  a  conven 
tional  "coon"  of  the  comic  paper  and  the  variety  hall,  but  a 
genuine  flesh  and  blood  type,  presented  with  a  good  deal  of 
literary  and  artistic  skill.— New  York  Sun. 

16mo.  Cloth.  Uniform  with  "  Artie."  With  forty 
full-page  illustrations  by  John  T.  McCutcheon. 
Eighth  thousand.  $1.25. 

ARTIE 
A  story  of  the  Streets  and  Town. 

Mr.  Ade  shows  all  the  qualities  of  a  successful  novelist.— 
Chicago  Tribune. 

Artie  is  a  character,  and  George  Ade  has  limned  him  deftly  as 
well  as  amusingly.  Under  his  rollicking  abandon  and  reckless 
ness  we  are  made  to  feel  the  real  sense  and  sensitiveness,  and  the 
worldly  wisdom  of  a  youth  whose  only  language  is  that  of  a 
street-gamin.  As  a  study  of  the  peculiar  type  chosen,  it  is  both 
typical  and  inimitable.— Detroit  Free  Pi-ess. 

16mo.    Cloth.    Uniform  with  "Pink  Marsh."   With 
many  illustrations  by  John  T.   McCutcheon.    Six 
teenth  thousand.    $1.25. 
HERBERT  S.  STONE  &  Co.,  CHICAGO  &  NEW  YORK. 


By  HENRY  JAMES 

IN  THE  CAGE:    A  NOVELETTE 

With  every  recent  story  Mr.  James  seems  to  have 
entered  a  new  field.  "  What  Maisie  Knew  "  was  cer 
tainly  a  wide  departure  from  his  previous  work,  and 
"  In  The  Cage,"  the  life  of  a  girl  behind  the  wire 
screen  of  an  English  telegraph  office,  is  as  novel  as 
one  could  wish.  The  story  is  slight  and  the  incidents 
are  few,  but  the  charm  of  Mr.  James's  style,  the 
absolute  precision  of  his  expression,  the  keenness  of 
the  analysis  make  the  book  remarkable  in  contem 
porary  fiction. 

We  could  not  wish  for  a  better  representation  of  the  art  of  Mr. 
Henry  James.  In  appearance  it  is  only  a  sketch  of  a  girl  who 
works  the  telegraph  in  an  office  that  is  part  of  a  grocer's  shop  in 
the  West  End,  but  as  background  there  is  the  extravagant  world 
of  fashion  throwing  out  disjointed  hints  of  vice  and  intrigue  in 
messages  handed  in  as  indifferently  as  if  the  operator  were  only 
part  of  the  machine.  Nevertheless,  she  is  a  woman,  too,  and 
feminine  interest  and  curiosity  so  quicken  her  wits  that  she  is 
able  to  piece  together  "  the  high  encounter  with  life,  the  large 
and  complicated  game"  of  her  customers.  This,  in  fact,  is  the 
romance  in  her  life,  the  awakening  touch  to  her  imagination, 
and  it  is  brought  into  skilful  contrast  with  the  passionless  com 
monplace  of  her  own  love.— Academy. 

12mo.  Cloth.  Uniform  with  "What  Maisie 
Knew."  $1.25. 

WHAT  MAISIE  KNEW:    A  NOVEL 

Henry  James's  masterpiece.— Chicago  Times-Herald. 
It  will  rank  as  one  of  his  most  notable  achievements.— New 
York  Sun. 

The  book  contains  some  of  the  author's  cleverest  dialogue.— 
New  York  Tribune. 

"What  Maisie  Knew,"  taken  all  in  all,  contains  some  of  the 
keenest,  most  profound  analysis  which  has  yet  come  from  the 
pen  of  that  subtle  writer.  There  is  no  question  that  Henry 
James's  latest  work  will  sell.— New  York  Commercial  Advertiser. 

It  is  quite  impossible  to  ignore  that,  if  the  word  have  any 
significance  and  is  ever  to  be  used  at  all,  we  are  here  dealing 
with  genius.  This  is  a  work  of  genius  as  much  as  Mr.  Meredith's 
best  work.— Pall  Mall  Gazette. 

12mo.    Third  impression.    $1.50. 
HERBERT  S.  STONE  &  Co.,  CHICAGO  &  NEW  YORK. 


By  F.  FRANKFORT  MOORE 

THE  JESSAMY  BRIDE 

One  of  the  best  stories  of  recent  years.  It  had  no 
large  success  on  publication  but  the  sale  has  steadily 
increased,  every  reader  recommending  it  to  others. 
Mr.  George  Merriam  Hyde  writes  in  the  Book  Buyer: 

"The  story  seems  to  me  the  strongest  and  sincerest  bit  of  fic 
tion  I  have  read  since  "  Quo  Vadis." 

The  Bookman  says  of  it: 

"  A  novel  in  praise  of  the  most  lovable  of  men  of  letters,  not 
even  excepting  Charles  Lamb,  must  be  welcome,  though  in  it 
the  romance  of  Goldsmith's  life  may  be  made  a  little  too  much 
of  for  strict  truth  *  *  *  Mr.  Moore  has  the  history  of  the  time 
and  of  the  special  circle  at  his  finger-ends.  He  has  lived  in  its 
atmosphere,  and  his  transcripts  are  full  of  vivacity.  *  *  * 
"The  Jessamy  Bride "  is  a  very  good  story,  and  Mr.  Moore  has 
never  written  anything  else  so  chivalrous  to  man  or  woman." 

12mo.    Cloth.    Third  impression.    $1.50. 


THE    IMPUDENT    COMEDIAN  AND  OTHERS 

A  volume  of  capital  short  stories  relating  to  seven 
teenth  and  eighteenth  centuries  characters — Nell 
Gwynn,  Kitty  Clive,  Oliver  Goldsmith,  Dr.  Johnson, 
and  David  Garrick.  They  are  bright,  witty  and 
dramatic. 

The  person  who  has  a  proper  eye  to  the  artistic  in  fiction  will 
possess  them  ere  another  day  shall  dawn. — Scranton  Tribune. 

Full  of  the  mannerisms  of  the  stage  and  thoroughly  Bohemian 
in  atmosphere. — Boston  Herald. 

The  celebrated  actresses  whom  betakes  for  his  heroines  sparkle 
with  feminine  liveliness  of  mind.— New  York  Tribune. 

A  collection  of  short  stories  which  has  a  flash  of  the  pic- 
turesqueness,  the  repartee,  the  dazzle  of  the  age  of  Garrick  and 
Goldsmith,  and  Peg  Woffington  and  Kitty  Clive.— Hartford 
Courant. 

Mr.  F.  Frankfort  Moore  had  a  capital  idea  when  he  undertook 
to  throw  into  story  form  some  of  the  traditional  incidents  of  the 
history  of  the  sta#e  in  its  earlier  English  days.  Nell  Gwynn, 
Kitty  Clive,  Mrs.  Siddons,  Mrs.  Abbington  and  others  are  cleverly 
depicted,  with  much  of  the  swagger  and  flavor  of  their  times.— 
The  Outlook. 

12mo.    Cloth.    $1.50. 
HERBERT  S.  STONE  &  Co.,  CHICAGO  &  NEW  YORK. 


By  ELIA  W.  PEATTIE 

PIPPINS  AND  CHEESE 

A  book  of  stories  and  conversations  telling  how  a 
number  of  persons  ate  a  number  of  dinners  at  vari 
ous  times  and  places. 

A  group  of  stories  which  bear  the  marks  of  faithful  care  and 
polishing,  of  deep  feeling  and  an  understanding  of  the  heights 
and  depths  of  the  soul,  stories  which  must  be  a  satisfaction  to 
their  author,  are  included  in  the  gray-and-green  volume,  with  its 
quaint  title,  "Pippins  and  Cheese,"  with  the  name  of  Mrs.  Elia 
W.  Peattie  below.— Chicago  Daily  News. 

Mrs.  Peattie  proves  without  doubt  her  versatility  and  talent 
for  short-story-telling,  and  "Pippins  and  Cheese"  is  a  good 
example  of  the  work  of  a  Western  writer  Chicago  is  glad  to 
claim.— Chicago  Evening  Post. 

With  a  cover  designed  by  Frank  Hazenplug. 
16mo.  Cloth.  $1.25. 


A  MOUNTAIN  WOMAN 

The  collection  of  brief  stories  of  Western  life  which  Mrs.  Elia 
W.  Peattie  put  forth  under  the  title  of  "A  Mountain  Woman"  is 
decidedly  out  of  the  ordinary.  These  tales  are  vigorous  in  con 
ception,  and  are  gracefully  and  affectively  muL—New  York 
Tribune. 

If  anyone  were  to  name  the  best  quality  of  the  Western  school 
of  fiction,  it  would  be  a  very  fine  sincerity  untouched  by  cyni 
cism;  faithfulness  to  reality,  and  yet  a  belief  in  the  real  human 
nature  that  it  finds.  This  is  the  best  democracy.  *  *  *  Mrs. 
Peattie  has  done  some  work  very  characteristic  of  her  school, 
and  yet  individual.  One  is  impressed  at  the  very  outset  with  the 
honesty  and  vitality  of  her  observations.— The  Bookman. 

We  wish  to  call  most  particular  attention  to  a  collection  of 
short  Western  stories  by  Mrs.  Peattie,  entitled  "A  Mountain 
Woman. ' '  The  book  contains  several  of  the  best  tales  of  Western 
life  ever  written.  The  Nebraska  stories  throw  so  true  a  light 
upon  recent  conditions  in  the  sub-arid  belt  that  they  explain, 
better  than  any  political  speeches  or  arguments  could  do,  the 
reasons  why  men  in  that  part  of  the  country  are  advocating  free 
silver. — Review  of  Reviews. 

With  a  cover  designed  by  Bruce  Rogers.  16mo. 
Cloth.  $1.25. 

HERBERT  S.  STONE  &  Co.,  CHICAGO  &  NEW  YORK. 


By  H.  C.  CHATFIELD-TAYLOR 

THE  VICE  OF  FOOLS 

A  novel  of  society  life  in  Washington. 

The  great  success  of  Mr.  Chatfield-Taylor's  society 
novels  gives  assurance  of  a  large  sale  to  this  new 
story.  It  can  hardly  be  denied  that  few  persons  in 
this  country  are  better  qualified  to  treat  the  "  smart 
set"  in  various  American  cities,  and  the  life  in 
diplomatic  circles  offers  an  unusually  picturesque 
opportunity. 

Mr.  Chatfield-Taylor  has  brought  out  a  fourth  novel,  and  one 
which  is  distinctly  a  gain  in  style  over  his  previous  achievements 
in  that  line.  As  a  series  of  society  scenes  the  panorama  of  the 
book  is  perfect.  A  dinner  at  the  Hungarian  embassy  is  detailed 
with  much  humor,  great  pictorial  power  and  keen  knowledge. 
The  dialogue  may  be  characterized  heartily  as  crisp  witty  and 
sparkling.  Mr.  Chatfield-Taylor  proves  himself  a  past  master  of 
epigram;  and  if  society  were  to  talk  a  tenth  as  well  as  he  repre 
sents  there  would  be  no  cause  for  accusing  it  of  frivolity.— 
Chicago  Times- Herald. 

16mo.  Cloth.  With  ten  full-page  illustrations  by 
Raymond  M.  Crosby.  Fifth  thousand.  $1.50. 


TWO  WOMEN   AND   A  FOOL 

The  story  of  an  actress,  an  artist  and  a  very  sweet 
girl.  The  scenes  are  laid  in  Chicago,  London,  and 
Paris;  in  theatres,  studios,  and  bachelor  apartments. 
It  is  the  history  of  an  infatuation — with  moral  inter 
ludes. 

Mr.  H.  C.  Chatfield-Taylor,  whom  Paul  Bourget  has  named 
as  the  most  promising  novelist  of  American  social  life,  has  given 
us  a  clever  story  in  "Two  Women  and  a  Fool."  The  tale  is 
retrospective;  one  hears  it  from  the  lips  of  Guy,  an  artist;  and  it 
concerns  his  love  for  two  women,  a  very  naughty  and  an  ex 
tremely  nice  one,  Moira  and  Dorothy  respectively.  Moira,  who 
becomes  a  soubrette,  leads  Guy,  who  becomes  a  successful  artist, 
a  tremendous  pace,  wearying  him  at  length,  but  still  holding  the 
power  to  revive  him  with  her  look  that  allures.  The  romance 
leaps  from  Chicago  to  London  and  Paris  and  buck  to  the  Windy 
City  again.  It  is  steadily  entertaining,  and  its  dialogue,  which 
is  always  witty,  is  often  brilliant.  C.  D.  Gibson's  pictures  are 
really  illustrative.— Philadelphia  Press. 

18mo.  Cloth.  With  frontispiece  by  C.  D.  Gibson. 
Ninth  thousand.  $0.75. 

HERBERT  S.  STONE  &  Co.,  CHICAGO  &  NEW  YORK. 


By  HAROLD  FREDERIC 

GLORIA  MUNDI:    A  NOVEL 

Mr.  Frederic's  two  triumphs  of  the  last  few  years 
have  been  "The  Damnation  of  Theron  Ware"  in 
serious  fiction  and  "March  Hares"  in  a  light  and 
brilliantly  witty  style  which  is  all  his  own.  "  Gloria 
Mundi "  comes  as  his  first  work  since  the  publication 
of  these  two  successful  books — and  happily  enough 
— it  combines  the  keen  thoughtful  analysis  of  the  one 
with  the  delicacy  of  touch  of  the  other.  Mr.  Frederic 
takes  for  his  hero  a  young  man  brought  up  without 
much  attention  in  the  south  of  France,  who,  by  a 
wholly  ^unexpected  combination  of  circumstances, 
falls  heir  to  an  English  earldom.  His  entire  training 
has  unfitted  him  for  the  position,  and  Mr.  Frederic 
makes  much  of  the  difficulties  it  forces  upon  him. 
The  other  characters  are  some  good  and  bad  mem 
bers  of  the  nobility,  an  "  actress-lady,"  and  a  type 
writer. 

12mo.  Cloth.  Uniform  with  "  The  Damnation  of 
Theron  Ware."  $1.50. 

THE  DAMNATION  OF  THERON  WARE 

It  is  unnecessary  at  this  time  to  say  much  of  "  The 
Damnation  of  Theron  Ware"  or  "Illumination"  as 
it  is  called  in  England.  The  sales  have  already 
reached  thirty-five  thousand,  which  is  in  itself  the 
most  substantial  evidence  of  the  novel's  readable- 
ness.  Owing  to  the  failure  of  its  former  publishers 
the  book  was  temporarily  out  of  print,  but  it  is  now 
enjoying  a  constant  and  certain  success. 

The  merit  of  the  boo  K  is  worthy  of  special  praise  because  of 
the  exceptional  strength,  variety,  and  originality  of  the  char 
acters.  -  Cleveland  World. 

Mr.  Frederic  has  written  a  daring  story,  and  one  which  is 
d9ubly  impressive  because  of  the  straightforward  simplicity  of 
his  manner  of  presenting  his  case.  His  attack  is  certainly  a  bold 
one,  and  it  will  be  strange  if  he  does  not  bring  down  the  unani 
mous  maledictions  of  the  cloth  on  his  devoted  head.— Chicago 
Evening  Post. 

12mo.    Cloth.    Thirty-fifth  thousand.    $1.50. 
HERBERT  S.  STONE  &  Co.,  CHICAGO  &  NEW  YORK. 


By  JULIA  MAGRUDER 

A  REALIZED  IDEAL 

Miss  Julia  Magruder  has  by  this  time  firmly  estab 
lished  her  reputation  as  one  of  the  most  popular  of 
our  younger  writers.  Many  readers  had  their  intro 
duction  to  her  when  "  The  Princess  Sonia  "  began  in 
the  pages  of  The  Century  Magazine,  and  all  agreed 
that  the  most  charming  love-story  they  had  read  for 
years  came  from  this  almost  unknown  Southern  girl. 

Since  then  "The  Violet"  and  a  volume  of  short 
stories,  entitled,  "Miss  Ayr  of  Virginia,"  have  ap 
peared.  In  the  title  of  this  latest  volume,  Miss 
Magruder,  in  a  way,  makes  the  confession  that  she  is 
an  old  fashioned  writer.  At  least  she  is  not  modern 
in  some  of  the  unpleasant  meanings  of  the  word.  In 
her  book,  "  ideals "  are  sometimes  to  be  "  realized," 
and  the  whole  story  is  an  unobtrusive  protest  in  favor 
of  sweetness  and  of  sentiment  in  fiction. 

The  volume  is  bound  in  an  exceedingly  good  design 
by  Frank  Hazenplug,  in  three  colors. 

16mo.    Cloth.    $1.25. 


MISS  AYR  OF  VIRGINIA    AND  OTHER 
STORIES 

By  means  of  original  incident  and  keen  portraiture,  "Miss 
Ayr  of  Virginia,  and  Other  Stories,"  is  made  a  decidedly  read 
able  collection.  In  the  initial  tale  the  character  of  the  young 
Southern  girl  is  especially  well  drawn;  Miss  Magruder's  most 
artistic  work,  however,  is  found  at  the  end  of  the  volume,  under 
the  title  "  Once  More."—  The  Outlook. 

The  contents  of  "  Miss  Ayr  of  Virginia  "  are  not  less  fascinat 
ing  than  the  cover.  *  *  *  These  tales  *  *  *  are  a  delight 
ful  diversion  for  a  spare  hour.  They  are  dreamy  without  being 
candidly  realistic,  and  are  absolutely  refreshing  in  the  simplicity 
of  the  author's  style.— Boston  Herald. 

Julia  Magruder's  stories  are  so  good  that  one  feels  like  reading 
passages  here  .-ind  there  again  and  again.  In  the  collection, 
"Miss  Ayr  of  Virginia  and  Other  Stories,"  she  is  at  her  best,  and 
"Miss  Ayr  of  Virginia,"  has  all  the  daintiness,  the  point  and 
pith  and  charm  which  the  author  so  well  commands.  The  por 
traiture  of  u  sweet,  unsophisticated,  pretty,  smart  Southern  girl 
is  bewitching.— Minneapolis  Times. 

With  a  cover  designed  by  F.  R.  Kimbrough.  16mo. 
HERBERT  S.  STONE  &  Co.,  CHICAGO  &  NEW  YORK. 


IS  DUE  ON  THE  LAST 
STAMPED  BELOW 


14  DAY  USE 

RETURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 

LOAN  DIPT. 

This  book  is  due  on  the  last  date  stamped  below,  or 

on  the  date  to  which  renewed. 
Renewed  books  are  subject  to  immediate  recall. 


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UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  IJBRA<RTY 


